


To the guy at the bus stop:

by Ragno



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-02-06 03:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 43,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12809109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragno/pseuds/Ragno
Summary: The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, especially if the other side of the fence is Ireland and the grass is Eddie living his own life for the first time ever away from his mom. An International Students Exchange Program is what he needs to finally stand up for himself and doing what he really wants. Who cares if he won't know anybody there? Who cares if he'll be alone in a foreign country? Who cares if he won't have his car and will need to take the bus to go anywhere?? Okay, maybe Eddie does care about that last one...But, hey, at least the real grass is really greener there. Right?





	1. Cute

 

 

 

When Eddie told his mom he was going to Ireland, she freaked out so bad he really thought he would need to call an ambulance. She cried and screamed and said he was killing her, abandoning her, forgetting about her. She said he didn’t love her anymore because if he loved her he would stay at home and not go to a place so far away from her. It wasn’t anything new, to be honest, but she’d never gotten that bad, not since she found out Eddie had applied to different colleges, some of them away from Maine.

It worked back then. Eddie stayed even if he didn’t really want to. The first two years he felt like he wasn’t really living a real college experience. He didn’t make any friends. He met people, of course, he talked to them in class and he met them at the library or in their dorms when they had to do some group assignment. That was it, though. He didn’t go to parties, he didn’t have fun, he didn’t even go out for a coffee. He could forget about it while he was attending classes but once he was back home, he was alone. His friends from high school weren’t there either, some of them studying, some of them working, but none of them had stayed in town. Eddie couldn’t blame them. He just wished he had the courage to do it too.

His mom wasn’t a bad person. Eddie knew she wasn’t. He wasn’t sure if she was a good person either, though. Eddie understood where it came from, his mom’s need of keeping him close, of controlling every aspect of his life just to be sure he was safe. She wasn’t a very smart woman. She married young, like everybody else in her generation, because that’s what a young woman should do, but she was really in love. She was ready to be a devoted wife and mother and nothing else, and she didn’t think that was bad. She remained virgin until marriage, and Eddie knows every mom says that and it’s not necessarily true, but he also knows it was true in his mom’s case. She didn’t get pregnant immediately, but she was happy when she did. It was all she needed to complete her perfect life: a house, a car, a husband, and a baby. Not a dog, because dogs can bring diseases. Or maybe a dog too, Eddie doesn’t know. Maybe she didn’t care about germs and sickness back then.

There’s a picture of Eddie in his dad’s arms when he was just a baby. They really look alike. He thought about taking it with him when he was packing his bags to leave, but then he thought he couldn’t do that to his mom. It’s not like he remembers his dad at all, either. He died of cancer when Eddie was just a kid. Eddie loves him, he does, but he also knows he doesn’t really love the person because he never really met him. He doesn’t love a memory because he has no memory of his dad. He loves the memory his mom has painted for him and, even if it doesn’t sound sane and logical, Eddie doesn’t think it’s that bad.

He’s used to loving memories, things, pictures, words. Anything that represents people, but not real people. For Eddie is safer loving something that can’t love him back than loving someone, some living, thinking, human being. The only person he loves is his mom, and his mom loves him back. Eddie doesn’t like a love like that. 

It was the third year of college when one of his professors told him. The university had an exchange program with some European universities. It only required good grades, and Eddie’s were excellent. He didn’t have a bright mind, he wasn’t extremely intelligent, but he worked hard, he had determination and perseverance, so no matter how difficult a task was, Eddie always managed to do it, and that was something he was proud of.

The offer came right on time because Eddie was so burnt out, so tired of his endless routine, of his loneliness, he was really thinking of dropping out. He didn’t even care about school anymore, he just wanted to talk to people, meet some friends, have some other relationships apart from his mother. He was a coward, though, and he couldn’t do it by himself. He couldn’t just stand up to his mom and tell her he was done, he needed to move out. The exchange program was different. Once he was accepted he knew he wouldn’t back off, so he had to work up the courage and tell him mom or just leave without telling her.

It was bad, watching her cry and beg him to stay, but he had made his decision. And the moment he walked out the door carrying a huge suitcase and ready to start over, he really felt like it was the best decision of his life.

 

*

 

Ireland is… tiny. Eddie doesn’t mean to disrespect the country, he can’t really talk about tiny things when he’s probably the tiniest of all, but compared to the States, hell, compared to Maine, Ireland is super tiny. Eddie has the feeling that he could really see the whole country in less than the year he’ll be living in it. It’s a beautiful place to see, too, so it’s not unlikely that he does it. He hopes he can do it with someone else, though, not alone.

Of course, meeting people would be easier if Eddie hadn’t rent a house all by himself and in a town half an hour away from college. He does want to make friends, okay? But… he also wants peace. Living with his mom was boring, it’s true, but it was also quiet, and Eddie grew up used to the silence. This house is perfect in that way, there are no loud neighbors and the first morning he woke up to the sound of birds chirping, like in a fucking fairytale.

The worst think about living that far away from campus is probably taking the bus. As much controlling as Eddie’s mom is, she agreed Eddie driving to college was so much better than he moving out, so she bought him a car as soon as he said the first words about dorms. A car meant a little bit of freedom in the cage Eddie lived, and he got used to it pretty fast. Now that freedom is over and, of course, he can’t complain because now he has a whole different kind of freedom, real freedom, but he still misses his car. The connections aren’t that good either, so the bus Eddie needs to take passes by once every one and a half hours. That makes him get super early to class.

That’s how he meets Stan, though.

Stan is… interesting. He’s American too, but he’s been living in Ireland for about three years now. He was quiet at first and Eddie liked that. He also seemed really put together, like he had everything figured out. He never really participates in class but he takes a lot of notes, and Eddie had observed that. Stan also always comes early to class, sitting down and opening his laptop to work on something, so before they started talking it was kind of awkward being there both of them not talking to each other.

Eddie needed a whole week to work up the courage to talk to Stan. He always looked too busy and serious, and Eddie was afraid he’d be bothering him if he approached him. He finally did it one day when he saw a sticker of the University of Maine on Stan’s folder.

“Hey, sorry if I’m bothering you, but are you from Maine?” Eddie had asked.

“No, but my best friend is,” Stan had said. And that’s how Eddie learned about Bill.

They started talking a lot after that, first about home, then about class, and finally about everything else. Stan was a lot like Eddie in some ways. He had a lot of quirks, so he never found Eddie’s ones weird. He was more serious than Eddie, more mature, but he had a great ironic sense of humor and a sharp tongue Eddie loved. Stan made Eddie regret he didn’t live closer to the city. So it’s also Stan who is condemned to hear Eddie complain about it.

“It’s not that bad. You can always stay in my apartment if you ever want to hang out here, and I’ll stay at your house if I ever need to run away from the city,” Stan says, smiling at Eddie. It’s not a bad idea, not only because he knows he’d be okay staying at Stan’s, but also because something tells him Stan will feel the need to run away from the city often.

They’re outside, enjoying the parkland, sitting on a bench by the lake. Most people around are just lying on the grass but Eddie is afraid he could get a rash and Stan doesn’t want his clothes to get dirty. Eddie knows most times he feels itchy when he lies on the grass it’s just psychosomatic, but he can’t help it, and he’s glad Stand doesn’t question him about it.

“I wouldn’t complain so much if I had a car,” Eddie says, and he’s sure he’s said this same thing at least five more times just this week. “The connections are terrible.”

“You could try to see if someone from your town comes to the city at the same hour as you, even better if they come here. That way you could share the car and split the gas money.”

It’s a good idea, but the only people Eddie knows from his town are the people he sees every day at the bus stop with him. There are some new people every day, people that come and go, but there are also regulars like Eddie, people who take the same bus every day. Eddie remembers two girls who look like friends because they’re always talking while they wait, there’s an older woman too, two older men, and two guys about Eddie’s age. One of them is always smoking and the other one always wears a really oversized leather jacket.

He doesn’t think any of those people would take the bus if they had a car but, at the same time, he doesn’t know either if he would share it in case they did. To get to the point of sharing your car with a stranger you need to stop being strangers, and Eddie is not the best person to make the first contact.

“I’m not very good at talking to strangers,” Eddie says, wrinkling his nose.

“You talked to me,” Stan replies. He doesn’t know how hard it was for Eddie to do that. “Just try. Not tomorrow, or the day after that, just when you feel comfortable,” he says. ‘So never’, Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t say it. He just makes a face and looks at the lake. There are ducks in it.

 

*

 

Monday morning is so cold Eddie thinks about running to the bus stop just to warm himself up. He drinks chocolate for breakfast instead of coffee because that’s what you’re supposed to do when is that cold, and he throws on a big scarf that covers most of his face and a puffer jacket that makes him look like a meatball but it’s warm enough for Eddie not to care about his look at all. The bus stop is near the road on a boulevard, so there are other benches apart from the one at the bus stop. Eddie usually sits on one of them instead of using the one at the stop or just waiting standing up. 

This time, though, while he’s walking to the bus stop, he thinks about what Stand said. He goes past the bench he usually sits on and approaches the rest of people waiting for the bus, some of them sitting, some of them standing. Eddie recognizes the familiar faces and some other new, like always. The two girls are sitting down, talking like they always do. They look younger than Eddie, probably not a year older than eighteen. He doubts those girls can even drive yet, much less owning a car. Near them, also sitting down, is one of the older men. He must be at least 70, and he moves slowly. Eddie bets he takes the bus because he can’t drive anymore, or at least it’s safer if he doesn’t. The city can be too dangerous for a man his age, too much traffic. A little to the side, standing up and leaning on the bus stop, is the smoker. He has his headphones on, probably listening to music by the way he’s tapping his feet on the floor. There’s a possibility he drives and owns a car, but Eddie would never share a car with a smoker, he would never share anything, so that guy is out of the question. So the only ones left are the older man, not as old as the previous one, and the guy with the leather jacket (and the horrible fashion sense).

The bus is coming, so Eddie stops looking and get his card to pay. He thinks about what he can say to any of those men just to start a conversation and don’t look like a creep. Do people really talk to others while they’re waiting at the bus stop? It looks improbable. He’s pretty sure guys his age don’t do that. Old people might, but old people talk to anyone anywhere, they have a free pass because they’re old, so they don’t look creepy.

“You gonna get in?” Eddie snaps out of his thoughts when he hears the voice. He looks up to meet the eyes of the smoker, and when he looks down he sees his hand pointing at the bus door. Eddie blinks before he realizes the guy is offering him to get on the bus before him.

“Oh. No, you go first, you were here before me,” Eddie says, and it’s true, the guy is always there no matter how early Eddie gets to the bus stop. He smiles as a thank you, and the smoker smiles back too. He has a cute smile, Eddie must admit, and his teeth are pretty white for a guy whom Eddie hasn’t seen without a cigarette between his lips.

He gets in after the guy, paying for his trip and walking down the bus to take a seat. He gets his phone like every morning, ready to play some stupid game to help him pass the 35 minutes the bus takes to get to Dublin. While he’s doing it, though, he finds himself thinking about the smoker and his gesture, his smile. He smiles again too. It’s not much, but it’s the first nice thing a stranger does for him since he came to this town. Not like he’s been outside home too much to meet any other nice people apart from going to class, he’s not really walked the town yet, but still.

He closes the game he was playing and goes to twitter. He looks around discreetly, trying to spot the guy on the bus, but he can’t see too much without revealing himself. He laughs because it’s stupid, but he feels like he’s in a movie and that smoker guy is someone important in the plot, only he doesn’t know it yet. Eddie slides his fingers through the screen of his phone, checking his timeline before he taps to tweet.

_To the guy at the bus stop: that was cute._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am again, and I still don't know what I'm doing but this fandom is so _nice_ I just couldn't stop writing. I love it here and I'm not leaving until you kick me out! Hope you guys like this thing at least as much as I'm enjoying writing it!


	2. Awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about updating once a week but what the hell, you guys are making me so happy with your comments and your kudos I couldn't wait. So here's the second chapter. I hope you like it!

 

 

One of the things Eddie loves about Ireland is how pretty everything is. He’s starting to visit some places now that he’s settled in, and he’s _in love_ with the country. Sometimes he goes alone, but Stan joins him other times too. Stan likes birds. Like, a lot. He knows their scientific names and everything. Eddie didn’t even know birds had different names.

But it’s nice, Eddie likes to hear Stan talk about it, it shows how much he loves the subject. Eddie never thought he would find talking about birds interesting. They visit a lot of parks and gardens and Stan teaches Eddie where are the best places for bird sighting, where to find the rarest birds. They even bring a picnic blanket sometimes so they can lie on the grass, eat a sandwich and enjoy the place. Stan talks about how he used to do that with Bill, just going birdwatching, having lunch together, staying in silence and enjoying each other’s company. 

Eddie has seen pictures, Bill looks like a nice guy, and it shows how much Stan misses him. They look like really good friends in the pictures, maybe… maybe more? Eddie doesn’t know. He’s thought about asking Stan, but as much as he is comfortable talking about relationships and sex and stuff, he also seems very private. Eddie has never heard him say someone is hot, or talking about celebrity crushes, even less talking about his own sexual experiences.

Anyway, Eddie doesn’t need to know Stan’s love life to enjoy his friendship. He’s beginning to spend a lot of time with Stan, taking the last bus home just to be together. Stan has told him to stay at his apartment a hundred times, just not to take the last bus so late home, but Eddie doesn’t want to take advantage of their friendship.

“Would it be better if you weren’t the only one staying?” Stan asks. They’re in the cafeteria, Eddie drinking a mocha and Stan having a double espresso. He says he’ll need the extra energy for the next class. “My friend Mike will stay home this weekend, we’re going to this really cool rock bar. Clean, too,” Stan remarks, and that is something important. The best thing Stan can say about something is that it’s clean.

Eddie had some problems with that word at first. It reminded him of his mom. She used the word ‘clean’ with a different meaning, and Eddie didn’t like that at all. Luckily he soon could find out when Stan said ‘clean’ he meant exactly that: clean. Like, not literally dirty. So, when Stan says a place is clean that means he can sit without double checking the chairs.

“I didn’t know you liked rock music,” Eddie says. He never pictured Stan as the type. He never really pictured him listening to any kind of music. Maybe classical music, or the opera.

“I like it. It’s not my favorite, but I enjoy it. They also play jazz and blues, there are live shows some nights too. Some local bands play, like Mike’s. He sings in a jazz band, and he’s pretty good. You should hear him sometime.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Eddie says. He likes a good live show as much as the next guy, and it seems there’s a lot of local bands in Dublin, because as soon as he arrived and twitted it was his first day at the UCD, at least three rock/alternative bands started following him, along with some accounts related to the UCD. Eddie followed back the UCD ones, and the others stopped following him after a couple days. “Does he play this weekend.”

“Not this weekend, but there’s a live show. You should come anyway, meet Mike, and maybe some other people too because, as much as I enjoy our friendship and it makes me feel special, you need more friends, Eddie,” Stan says with a crooked smile.

“Yeah? How many friends do you have?” Eddie asks, smirking back at him. Stan looks at him unamused.

“Shut up, I’m different. And I have at least two friends more than you, so…”

“Bill doesn’t live here, he doesn’t count,” Eddie laughs.

“Bill lives in my heart. He always counts,” Stan replies quickly.

“Aww, that’s so cute, Stan.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up??”

 

*

 

Eddie finally agrees to stay the weekend at Stan’s, but only if he meets Mike first. He trusts Stan’s word, but he doesn’t think he’d be comfortable staying the night in the same room with a guy he just met. He knows it’s ridiculous, but he’s really socially anxious, he can’t help it. Stan doesn’t say he’s dumb, he just nods like he understands and quickly texts Mike.

Mike is their age and he studies in another one of Dublin’s universities, the Trinity College. He also sings for The Echos, and has enough time to eat, sleep, and hang out with friends, all of that getting straight A’s. Eddie decides, without even meeting the guy yet, that Mike must be a fucking genius.

“I just do what I can, man,” Mike says when Stan brings it up the moment they finally meet, making Eddie blush and shoot him a death glare. “Stan has talked a lot about you. You went birdwatching with him, right? That’s more than he can say about me,” he laughs.

Eddie finds out talking to Mike is really easy. The guy is really friendly and actually nice, one of those people you know they’re incapable of doing anything evil. They can’t talk too much because Mike is really busy, and Eddie understands, but he’s having such a nice time he’s sad it’s over.

“I liked him. We should hang out with him more often,” Eddie says while he and Stan walk to the library. They have some research to do for one of their classes.

“I do hang out with him often, on the weekends. He’s a busy man, we can’t have him all we want,” Stan jokes. “So you know what to do if you want to hang out with him.”

Eddie decides he needs to stay over at Stan’s more often.

They go to the meeting room in the library, so they can work together and they don’t need to stay in silence. Eddie loved that about the library, having a space where he could talk and not bother anyone either. He might seem a quiet person, but that’s only on the outside. He’s awkward when he doesn’t know the person he’s talking to, but once he does, Eddie is the most talkative person ever.

“You sure I’m not bothering you, right? Staying at your apartment?” Eddie asks. He’s asked this before, and he knows he’ll ask again. Stan must be pretty tired of hearing it, but he doesn’t show it if he is. He just answers the same again.

“Of course not, Eddie. I like having you around. And I’m sure you, of all people, won’t make a mess,” he says, and that’s true. Eddie is the opposite of messy, and he knows Stan likes that about him. “And I know you’ll have a good time at the bar. I don’t need too many people around, I like spending some time alone, but I know you don’t,” he adds, catching Eddie off guard. “You like having friends, you like talking to people. You hate being alone,” Stan smiles fondly. “That’s why you came here, right? To finally be free to meet new people, make new friends, live the life you really wanted to,” he says, looking back at his book but not losing his smile. “You’ve already got me, Eddie. I’m your friend. You won’t lose me if you start talking to other people and make other friends. You deserve to know more people apart from our classmates and the ones who take the bus with you,” he says the last part in a joking tone, but Eddie feels the words warm on his chest anyway.

He hadn’t noticed that, the way the moment he found Stan he stopped looking for some other friends, like that was a bad thing to do. It was true, what Stan had said, he really liked to have people around, friends around, maybe because he never really had that. Or he did, but only when he was a kid, and even then the shadow of his mom was always present. No matter how many friends he had, his mom always went first. That’s what she said. You don’t need friends, Eddie-bear, mommy is your friend.

She wasn’t his friend. She never was his friend. She was his mom, and sometimes Eddie even wished she weren’t, but she was, and Eddie couldn’t say he needed more friends than her, he needed more people around than her, because then she cried and told him he didn’t love her, she said he was a bad son for hurting her. He did love her, he did. He does. Even if sometimes he doesn’t know how.

It wasn’t until Stan pointed out what he was doing when Eddie knew he was repeating the same pattern with him. He was so used to being afraid of needing more than one person in his life, he was keeping himself in a cage when the door had always been open.

He smiles, Stan words repeating in his head. He’s lucky he’s met someone like Stan. Remembering his words, though, makes Eddie think about the people at the bus stop, about the guy with the cute smile. Eddie hasn’t talked to him again since that first time, but he’s always there. And he smiles to Eddie.

It’s not all the time, it’s not like they’re looking at each other smiling like a couple of idiots. It’s just sometimes, when their eyes accidentally meet while they’re in line to get on the bus. It’s always him who smiles at Eddie first, so Eddie smiles back because it’d be rude otherwise, that’s all.

“He’s cute, you know?” Eddie says, feeling his cheeks a little tingly but not too much, so he’s sure he’s not blushing. This is more of a joke than anything else, he’s not really confessing his crush to Stan, so it’s okay.

“Who’s cute?” Stan asks, looking up at Eddie from his book and raising an eyebrow. They’ve never talked about Eddie’s sexual preferences, but Eddie isn’t nervous about Stan’s reaction. Something tells him Stan wouldn’t freak out when he finds out Eddie likes guys, something like the way Stan’s face lightens up when he talks about that friend Bill of his. Eddie hasn’t said anything to Stan, but he’s not dumb.

“The guy at the bus stop,” he says, and Stan frowns for a second before he moves his head to look through the window. Eddie laughs and shakes his head. “No, I mean. I mean one of the guys who always take the same bus as I do in the mornings to come to the city.”

“Oh,” Stan says, blinking a couple of times, looking at Eddie. “Who is it? The smoker or the one with the bad fashion sense?” He asks and Eddie smiles, impressed. He didn’t think Stan would remember them. Eddie is sure he’s just talked about them once.

“Why not the octogenarian?” Eddie jokes, and Stan makes a disgusted face, making Eddie laugh. “The smoker,” he says, nodding when Stan makes a sad face. “I know. At least his clothes are okay,” Eddie laughs, but he shakes his head. “It’s nothing. He just smiles at me sometimes, when we make eye contact, but he smiles at everybody else, too.”

“Maybe he’s a player,” Stan deadpans.

“Or maybe he’s just nice,” Eddie laughs again, looking at Stan. “There are nice people in the world,” he says, just to see Stan twist his lips in disbelieve. “Anyway, it’s not like I know him at all, the only thing he’s said to me is ‘you gonna get in?’, which isn’t too revealing.”

“Why do you think he’s cute, then? Because of that time when he let you cut in line?”

“I didn’t cut in line. And yeah, that was cute, but I meant like… physically.” Eddie says, wrinkling his nose. “Like, he has a cute smile and nice eyes. And his hair is kind of messy but it suits him. Also, he’s tall,” Eddie adds with a smirk. Stan doesn’t seem to get it.

“So what if he’s tall? He can reach things you can’t?” Stan asks and Eddie laughs because he can’t believe his friend is that innocent.

“Not only that…” He wiggles his eyebrows, but Stan doesn’t seem to get it yet. “Sex, Stan. Like, fucking against a wall is so much easier if he’s 5 inches taller than me?”

“Oh,” Stan says, making a face like he didn’t really think about that. “That sounds… uncomfortable, fucking against a wall.”

“It feels better than it sounds, trust me.”

“You’ve done it?” Stan asks, and Eddie blushes a little. He’s always surprised by the way Stan can talk about sex like it doesn’t affect him at all, like he’s talking about anything else.

“Well, no… But you know,” he says. Stan looks at him like he really doesn’t know. “It’s hot. Thinking about it,” Eddie finally says, and Stan twists his lips again, making a face like he’s considering.

“I guess it is.”

 

*

 

Eddie isn’t really considering talking to the guy at the bus stop, the smoker, as Stan calls him. That’s not how you meet people anyway, talking to them while you wait for the bus to come. You meet people in class, in a bar, in places where people go to interact with other people. That guy being polite and smiling at Eddie doesn’t mean he wants to engage in a conversation.

He can daydream, though. It’s a thing he’s always done, daydreaming about what he could do or how things could turn out if he did this or that. He used to do it a lot when he was younger, mostly when he felt like he had no control at all over his life. He daydreamed about how would it be to just break free. Now he just does it for fun, and because it has become his way of escaping reality sometimes too.

He daydreams as he walks to the bus stop, he imagines meeting that guy somewhere else, he imagines the kind of conversations they would have, he imagines how the guy would be polite and kind, quiet and maybe shy too, he imagines they would share interests and things they like to do for fun… and he imagines they’d fuck like animals against a damn wall, no matter how uncomfortable Stan thinks that might be.

He’s so lost in his dreams he doesn’t notice there’s someone sitting on the bench he usually sits on while he waits for the bus. He doesn’t notice until he’s right there and the figure suddenly appears in his line of sight. The smoker is there, sitting on Eddie’s bench, with his headphones on and his fucking cigarette between his lips, looking at his phone.

Eddie feels his heart pumping hard in his chest, and his feet keep moving because they don’t know how to do anything else. What is he doing there? He’s never there! He’s always waiting for the bus leaning on the bus stop, why walk down the boulevard to sit on Eddie’s bench?? 

He wants to think fast, he wants to evaluate what to do. Should he sit down there too? And if he does, should he talk to the guy? Should he smile? Should he say hi? Should he tell him ‘hey, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me against a wall’? Fuck. Fuck, Eddie doesn’t know what to do. He needs to think fast, he doesn’t want to fuck up, but he can’t really concentrate when the beating of his own heart is echoing in his head.

So. He just walks away.

Eddie wants to punch himself in the face when he passes the bench by, walking a few steps closer to the bus stop and standing up there, awkwardly, and feeling dumb. Fuck, he’d probably just lost the opportunity to talk to the guy. Maybe now he thinks Eddie is not interested (if the guy was even interested at all in the first place). Maybe he thinks Eddie is rude. Or maybe he was just sitting there, not thinking of Eddie at all, and he doesn’t give a fuck. Eddie doesn’t know, but he can’t help feeling like he did something wrong.

This time, when he gets on the bus, he’s so up front in the line, he’s inside before he has time to 'accidentally' meet the guy’s eyes and smile. He bites his bottom lip and sighs when he sits down, taking his phone out and opening the Twitter app. If he doesn’t apologize to the guy, at least he can write about how he really feels.

_To the guy at the bus stop: I’m sorry. I’m not dumb, I’m just socially awkward._

 

 

 

 


	3. Stupid

 

 

 

Eddie had never been so excited for a weekend to come _in years_. Lately the weekend meant him staying home alone, watching Netflix and eating pizza. Not this weekend. This weekend he’s staying at Stan’s place and Mike is there too and they’ll go out and have fun and party and probably go home to when they’re so tired they can’t even walk. Maybe change ‘tired’ for ‘drunk’. Not in his case, though. Eddie doesn’t drink. He never found it appealing apart from how his mom always said alcohol was one of the most disgusting things on earth. He doesn’t think it’s disgusting, but he’s glad he never got the habit of drinking. He doesn’t like thinking of a beverage taking control of his own actions, his own body. Getting drunks seems terrifying.

He probably shouldn’t be feeling like a kid in his first sleepover, but that’s actually how he feels. He’s glad he said yes, because the moment he gets to Stan’s place, he really feels like home. It’s exactly how he pictured it, not the design but the tidiness. He understands immediately why Stan doesn’t live with roommates, but he also thinks he wouldn’t have any problem sharing a place with Stan. Mike, on the other hand…

“What did I told you about your shoes??”

“What? They’re where you told me to put them!!”

“They’re not _aligned!_ If we all leave our shoes in any way we want, the entrance of the house stops being an entrance and becomes _a chaos!_ ”

“Your mind is a chaos!”

Eddie just laughs, getting the things he needs and going to the bathroom to get ready. He doesn’t remember the last time he went to a bar, he’s gone to parties before, but usually house parties or clubs. Going to a bar just to hang out with friends, drink and enjoy good live music will be a new experience.

“There’s also board games and popcorn,” Mike says while they walk to the place, the Mad Sweeney. Eddie loves the reference in the name. And that’s another thing Eddie loves about the city. Although there are a lot of buses you can take, you can really just walk to any place.

“Board games?? Like Monopoly and stuff?” Eddie laughs, but he’s actually impressed. He had never gone to a bar where you could play board games. Then again, he’s not a regular at bars in general. He guesses there are bars like that in Maine too, but he’s glad his first experience in one of them is here in Dublin.

“I don’t know if they have Monopoly, but we’ve played Trivial, Scrabble, and Taboo. You just need to ask the bartender and they’ll tell you what they have,” Mike explains. “It’s a nice way to spend the night if you’re not in the mood to party hard, you know? Just chilling with your friends, playing stupid board games with with a round of beers and a bowl of popcorn,” he laughs.

To Eddie, it sounds perfect.

There are a lot of people in the streets, a lot of bars and clubs. It’s relatively early, but it shows some people have been partying for a couple hours already. It’s nice, though, the atmosphere. Or maybe Eddie just likes the feeling of having fun with his friends.

When they get to the Mad Sweeney, Eddie understands why Stan said it was clean. By the looks, anyone would say it’s the kind of dimly lit bar where you expect sticky floors and bathrooms where you can catch an STD. When you watch closer, though, you see it’s totally the opposite. It’s a pretty classic Irish bar, with low ceilings and traditional chandeliers, wooden floor, wooden furniture, wooden bar, wooden everything. It’s pretty crowded, probably because there’s already a band playing, but people are mostly chilling and drinking and having a laugh. 

As soon as they sit, Mike offers to go order the drinks. Eddie feels a little awkward when he says he’ll have anything non-alcoholic, but Mike doesn’t seem to mind at all, he just says ‘gotcha’ and turns around to walk to the bar. He brings the beers and a cocktail, smiling and Eddie and telling him to just try it. It’s fucking delicious.

“It’s a virgin Collins. I knew you would like it,” Mike says.

“He’s an expert guessing people’s favorite drinks. I don’t know how he does it,” Stan says, and then they proceed to listen to Mike telling them how he can read people’s minds, but only when it comes to drinks. Eddie asks them how can that be, when he didn’t know what a virgin Collins was until this very moment. Mike just says your brain knows things before you know them. All three of them laugh at that.

They end up playing Catan, the Game of Thrones version because one of the bartenders is a fucking geek and they’re the ones who suggest what games to buy for the bar. Eddie has a really good time even when Mike beats the shit out of him and Stan. Then Eddie learns Mike is a political science major and it all makes sense.

He’s not paying attention to the bands playing, not too much. He’s enjoying the music, even when sometimes the voices are not so good. It feels nice to experience a live show that’s not a proper concert, not a band playing for fans, but a bunch of guys who like music sharing their passion with a bunch of guys who also like music. It feels familiar. It feels good.

It’s just a coincidence, Eddie looking at the stage when the new band is coming up to play. Stan is moving up to order the next round of drinks, but Eddie grabs his arm and looks at him with wide eyes.

“Stan. That’s… That’s him,” he says, looking at the band on stage. “The singer.”

“Who? Richie? What’s up with him?” Stan asks and Eddie looks at him shocked. Does Stan know that guy? His guy? The guy at the bus stop??

“He’s _the guy!_ The smoker!” Eddie says and Stan raises his eyebrows, looking at the stage again and then at Eddie, cracking up laughing.

“No shit! Richie Tozier?” He laughs even more. “Richie is the guy you thought was cute? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call Trashmouth _cute_ , and I’ve heard people calling him _a lot_ of things.”

“You know him?? And what do you mean Trashmouth??” Eddie talks louder now that the music has started again.

“Everybody knows Richie. Look, I’m going for the drinks and I’ll tell you everything once I’m back, okay?” Stan says with an amused smile, not waiting for Eddie to agree, just turning around and walking away.

Eddie looks at the stage again, and then at Mike, who is looking at him with a smirk. Eddie feels himself blushing. Does Mike know? Maybe Stan has said something about it, something about Eddie’s stupid crush on a guy he doesn’t know. No, Stan wouldn’t do that. And he didn’t know that guy was this… Richie until just know, so Mike can’t know.

“So, you think Richie is cute?” Mike asks, chuckling when Eddie starts babbling trying to explain himself. “I know him. We use the same rehearsal space. If you want to, I could talk t—“

“No! Jesus. No, that’s. No, I just know him from the bus stop. Like. We take the same bus, and he, he let me cut in line once. And that’s. That’s all. I said that was cute, but I didn’t mean. Like I’m not interested in him or anything. I don’t know the guy. It’s not like…” Eddie laughs nervously, touching his hair, “like I have a crush or anything.”

“You sure?” Stan asks, suddenly appearing behind Eddie, making him jump. He laughs when he sits down again, sliding Eddie’s drink in front of him. “What was that you said about the height difference?” Stan jokes.

“I hate you so much, Uris. So much.”

So it seems everybody knows Richie except Eddie. It doesn’t surprise him, now that he knows the guy sings for a band (not very good, to be honest). According to Mike, Richie is a weird guy, but he’s not a bad person at all, too much of a blabbermouth who doesn’t have a filter, but a nice guy after all. According to Stan, someone should stitch up his mouth.

Eddie is actually enjoying the conversation, learning. What his friends are saying about Richie is the complete opposite of what Eddie had pictured, and he knows his friends must be right because they know the guy after all. He still finds it hard to believe it, though.

“Hey, my boys are in a club, a couple blocks away. I’m gonna say hi to them really quickly and I’m back,” Mike says, checking his phone.

“We’ll go with you. I need some fresh air,” Stan says too, standing up. Eddie stands up too, but he looks at the stage where Richie is still playing. Is he really going to waste his opportunity again? “Or do you prefer if we stay, Eddie?” Stan asks, giving him a knowing look.

“You can go. I mean, you guys will come back later, right?” Eddie says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I kinda wanna watch the show.”

“Sure,” Stan says, looking at his phone too, then looking at Mike. “23:30, front door? You think we’ll be here by then, Mike.”

“Yeah, and half an hour is plenty of time for the guys to finish the show. 23:30, front door. See you there, Eddie,” Mike says.

Eddie waits until his friends are gone to move from the table they were sitting at to the bar. He smiles to the bartender when he asks for a new virgin Collins and he sure needs to thank Mike for this discovery. The view of the stage is better from there, so Eddie just drinks and watches.

The music is nice, the songs are not bad. Eddie must confess he’s not really paying attention to the lyrics, he’s busy paying attention to Richie. He looks different, but Eddie guesses he looks different too. You don’t look the same at 8 in the morning on a Tuesday waiting for the bus that hanging out with your friends at 11 p.m. in a bar.

He’s probably too obvious looking at Richie, but he thinks since Richie is the leader of the band, he won’t pay attention to the people looking at him. It’s the usual, right? People look at you when you’re on a stage. However, there are sometimes when Eddie could swear Richie is looking back at him, not at his direction, but at him. Eddie tries to hold his gaze every time, but he’s the one who always ends up looking away.

The band announces they’re finishing up the show, and they start playing some covers to cheer up the crowd before they leave the stage. Richie’s voice is honestly awful, but his energy makes up for it, and people seem to enjoy the show a lot.

Eddie stops looking when Richie says his goodbyes and he’s still looking at him. He gulps the rest of his drink when he starts thinking about the possibility that Richie was really looking at him the whole time. He takes a deep breath and tries to control his anxiety. Sometimes, in moments like these, Eddie really misses the inhaler he uses to carry all the time when he was a kid because he was convinced his anxiety attacks were really asthma. 

He takes out his phone just to pretend he’s doing something, and also to distract himself and control his needs to look at Richie again. He does, though. He looks and, when he does, he’s not ready for what he sees. Richie is approaching him, not just his direction, no. He’s walking to him 

Eddie’s heart starts pumping hard and fast, loud in Eddie’s ears. He looks at his phone again and keeps pretending he’s not almost dying when Richie sits by his side. Eddie tries to look at him through the corner of his eyes, discreetly, but he never was good at being discreet, and Richie catches him looking almost immediately. He grins, though. Richie. He grins at Eddie.

“Did you like it?” He asks. Eddie likes this voice so much better than his singing voice, the voice he’s only heard a couple of times before. He blinks, looking at Richie.

“What?” Eddie asks. He doesn’t know what Richie is talking about. He doesn’t know why he’s even talking to him, but he’s not going to ask that. Richie just chuckles, like what Eddie said was so funny.

“You’re the guy from the bus stop, right?” He asks, but he doesn’t give Eddie any time to answer, he just asks again. “Did you like the show?”

Eddie is startled. For a second he doesn’t really know what to say. Richie is talking to him like they’re friends, like this is a conversation the usually have instead of being the first time they really talk to each other. And he’s getting more anxious. This cool, hot, and also weird as fuck guy is talking to him and Eddie feels the need of proving him he’s cool too. Not awkward at all. He’s just a cool guy talking to another cool guy.

Richie knows Eddie is not cool, or he should know if he’s been paying any attention to Eddie these past days at the bus stop, but now they’re in this bar and the music is loud and Eddie is not wearing his stupid big scarf and that jacket that makes him look like a meatball, so what the hell.

“It was okay…” Eddie says and, like a person who’s never been good at interacting with people, he adds: “Although I’m sure if Michael Jackson was alive he would have slapped you for that cover of Give in to me.”

Someone should probably slap _him_. He’s not lying, that cover was awful, and Richie asked, so… Also, he came to Eddie and started talking to him like they were friends. Eddie never lies to friends. There’s also this thing Eddie does where he’s always fucking rude to people he likes. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism, maybe he’s just that stupid. He’s always been like that, anyway.

Richie doesn’t seem offended, though. He seems amused, and he quickly replies with a shrug.

“Nah, I don’t think so. My man MJ was a pacifist.”

Eddie laughs and immediately snaps back.

“He would make an exception for you. Trust me.”

Okay, that was rude. But Eddie was smiling while he said it, so that means it’s okay, right? This might even count like flirting. Well, not really… Or maybe… Eddie doesn’t even know if Richie likes guys, so maybe he’s just making his first enemy. An enemy he’ll have to face every day at the bus stop for the rest of the year. Yeah, Eddie is so clever.

 Richie stays in silence for a few seconds, just looking at Eddie, and Eddie can’t read his face at all. But then he moves, Richie, he moves and shifts in his stool, facing Eddie with his whole body and smiling. So, not an enemy. Or maybe a really good one.

“What are you drinking? Richie, by the way. Richie Tozier,” Richie offers Eddie his hand and Eddie shakes it. He wants to say he knows, but that would be weird, and he only knows Richie’s name for when Stan told him like a couple hours ago, so it doesn’t really count.

“Eddie Kaspbrak,” Eddie says, feeling Richie’s hand really warm in comparison to his. His hands are always cold. His whole body is really cold, to be honest. “You’re gonna buy me a drink after I said you deserved a slap?” He asks, actually surprised. Maybe Richie is that kind of guy, the one who likes to make love and not war and all that shit.

“It’s okay. I like it rough,” Richie answers with a smirk, winking at Eddie. He says it like he joked like that with Eddie every day, and Eddie blushes like it’s the first time he’s heard something like that.

“… A virgin Collins,” Eddie says, and he blushes harder when Richie raises an eyebrow. “Fuck off, I didn’t name it.”

“Sure…” Richie laughs, more like a chuckle, and turns to the bartender, raising his hand to call for her. “Hey, Bev! A beer and a _virgin_ Collins, please?” He asks, stressing the word ‘virgin’ and looking at Eddie through the corner of his eye.

Richie talks to the bartender while she makes the drinks. They look like they know each other, maybe they’re even friends, or maybe Richie is that friendly. Eddie isn’t paying attention to the conversation, he’s busy thinking of how did he manage to make the first conversation he had with the guy into something sexual. Not that it was his fault. 

He blushes again when he hears Richie’s words in his head. “ _It’s okay. I like it rough_.” Who the hell says that to someone they’ve just met? It doesn’t matter if they’ve been seeing each other at the bus stop for the past few weeks, that was accidental and they’ve barely exchange a couple of words before. They’ve looked at each other a lot, that’s true, but looks don’t matter.

“You okay, Eds? You look redder than usual?” Richie asks, and Eddie sees in slow motion how Richie moves his hand, approaches it to Eddie’s face, and pinches his cheek.

“Did you just…?” Eddie moves away but it’s too late, Richie’s hand is back on the bar and he’s laughing. “Don’t you have boundaries at all?? And that’s not my name, by the way. Also, I’m not usually red,” he says, wrinkling his nose and frowning, taking his new drink and thanking the bartender, who seems amused too. She’s totally friends with Richie, Eddie can see it now.

“You are. At least in the mornings, Your nose and cheeks are always red, no matter how much you try to cover them with your scarf,” Richie says, and Eddie hates his body when he feels the heat back on his face.

“That’s because it’s _cold_ ,” Eddie tries to defend himself, but that answer only makes Richie look at him closer, more amused.

“Oh, really? Then why are you red now?” He asks, and now Eddie is sure his cheeks could literally explode.

He tries to come up with a witty answer, but his brain seems to be out of service. He’s still having some troubles with the fact that the guy he’s been fantasizing about is right there talking to him, actually teasing him, and looking like the total opposite of how Eddie had pictured him.

He should be soft and nice and cute, he should be polite and reserved and… shy, even! He should be a lot of things except the way he really is. Eddie looks at him, at his stupid grin and his playful face and the way he’s leaning on the bar like he owns the place, or like he owns the situation (which he kind of does, but that’s not the point). This is not the guy he liked to dream about.

“Richie, quit pestering the poor guy, he’s obviously too polite to tell you to fuck off,” the bartender says laughing, and whips Richie on his arm with the cleaning cloth she’s using to wipe off the bar.

“Ouch! He already told me to fuck off! I think he can defend himself!” Richie complains and laughs at the same time.

“Then I can imagine how much you’ve pestered him already,” she sighs jokingly, turning her face at Eddie. “Don’t mind him, he needs to work on his social skills. We’re all trying to turn him into a normal human being, but we’ve just worked so far,” she smiles and sticks her tongue at Richie when he complains. “I’m Beverly, by the way. I’m his zookeeper,” she says, shaking Eddie’s hand quickly. “If he’s bothering you, just tell me and I’ll put him back in his cage.”

“Zookeeper? Way to say I’m a _beast_ in bed,” Richie says, wiggling his eyebrows at Beverly. Beverly hits him with the cloth again, this time across his face. Not even that wipes the stupid grin off Richie’s face.

“I’m Eddie,” Eddie says, slightly amused by the relationship between those two. Maybe Richie does like it rough after all. “Thanks. I think I can handle myself for now, but it’s good to know I have back up if I need it.”

“You’re nicer to me in the mornings, Eds,” Richie pouts, making a sad face. Eddie rolls his eyes but he can’t hold back a little smile.

“Maybe that’s because you don’t talk to me in the mornings,” Eddie says, making Richie gasp and bring a hand to his chest, faking hurt.

“You guys know each other?” Beverly asks. She’s making drinks again for someone else, but it looks like the girl can multitask. Eddie opens his mouth to answer, but Richie talks faster.

“He lives in shitty-town, like me. We take the bus together. But you’re obviously new in town,” he says, looking at Eddie. Eddie looks at him too, just for a second, before he turns to Beverly.

“I’m an exchange student, I’m here for a year, then I’ll go back home. I’m gonna miss it here, though. I really like this city.”

“American, right? Where are you from?” Beverly asks.

“Derry, Maine,” he says, and he plans on keeping talking but Richie interrupts him with a: “No shit!” Eddie raises his eyebrows and looks at both guys, equally surprised. “What?”

“Isn’t that where your parents are from?” Beverly asks Richie, and Eddie opens his eyes wider when Richie nods. What are the odds?

“They… they are. In fact, I was born there. I lived there until I was four. Jeez, we still go there for Thanksgiving every year. Or at least my parents do. I stopped going a few years ago. I might start going again now that I know you’re there,” Richie winks, and Eddie wrinkles his nose to hide the way he’s blushing again.

“Who says I’m interested?” Eddie replies quickly. Richie just laughs.

“I bet your mom is,” Riche snaps back. Eddie blinks a couple times and looks at Beverly.

“Did he really…?” He doesn’t even need to finish the question, Beverly nods apologetically.

“He did.”

“Whoa. Just, whoa. How old are you, twelve?” Eddie asks, shocked but weirdly amused too.

“I’m old enough for you to be calling me daddy,” Richie says, and Eddie feels his cheeks literally burn, the heat spreading up to his ears too. He knows Richie didn’t mean it that way, that it was just him following up his ‘your mom’ joke. Eddie can’t help picturing a really different picture, though.

“Dude. Ew,” Eddie makes a disgusted face.

“Richie. Beep-beep,” Beverly says, a little more serious but keeping a smiling face. Eddie waits for Richie’s response, but he actually smiles and nods, taking his beer to drink. Eddie waits a little more, but nothing comes, and he sips at his drink too, wondering what’s going on between those two.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and Eddie sees a text from Stan on the screen when he takes it out. ‘ _Where are you? I said 23:30 front door!_ ’ Eddie jumps up from his stool. Shit, Stan hates waiting for… anything.

“Sorry, I need to… My friend is waiting for me. Nice to meet you, Beverly!” He says, and smiles at the girl when she smiles too, saying likewise.

“Hey! What about me?” Richie asks, speaking louder as Eddie quickly walks away.

“You’re an asshole!” Eddie shouts, laughing and waving his hand before he turns around and runs to the front door.

Stan and Mike are outside, and they’re talking amusingly so Eddie hopes that means Stan is not too mad at him. He practices his ‘I’m so sorry’ face so he’s ready when gets to the door. Mike is the first one who notices him, and when he smiles at him, Stan turns around and gives him a dirty look.

“I’m so so sorry, Stan!” Eddie apologizes, praying hands and everything. Stan rolls his eyes but shoots him a crooked smile.

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asks, throwing his arm around Eddie’s shoulders when they start walking out again. Eddie groans and rubs his face.

“He came to me. _Richie_ ,” Eddie says, and Mike and Stan laugh. “He started talking to me like we were BFF. And then he…” Eddie can feel the embarrassment coloring his cheek red.

“And then he said something inappropriate,” Mike finishes with a laugh. “Yeah, that sounds like Richie.”

“That’s the Trashmouth we all know,” Stan adds, and Eddie groans again.

 

_To the guy at the bus stop: you’re kinda stupid, tbh._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the one and only Richie Tozier!


	4. Hate

 

 

 

Eddie would lie if he said he’s not nervous when he walks out the door the next Monday morning, walking his way to the bus stop. It’s not like he’s been thinking about his encounter with Richie the whole weekend, but he’s thought about it. Just a little bit. Or a lot. It depends on what you compare it to.

He sits on his usual bench, looking at the bus stop discreetly, trying to spot Richie. There are a lot of people, though, there always are on Mondays, so Eddie is not sure if Richie is there or not. He could leave it alone and just wait for the bus where he is. He could, yeah.

Eddie sighs and stands up again, walking to the bus stop swearing under his breath because he can’t believe he’s being this dumb. He wants to stop walking right when he sees Richie, to not give himself away, but fucking Richie locks eyes with him and now Eddie can’t hide anymore. He keeps walking, getting closer. 

Richie smiles at him, just like every day, and Eddie honestly doesn’t know what to do. He hates that he blushes so easily, but at least now he can do blame the cold. He makes a face at Richie but doesn’t smile back, and a part of him feels bad because he really liked that part of the morning, the exchange of smiles. He wants to blame his ego and he wants to blame his age but, in the end, it’s just him the one who doesn’t smile back and he can’t do anything to help that.

He’s thinking about it when he sits down on the bus, leaving his messenger bag on the floor at his feet. He remembers the night at the bar and how different Richie looked and how different he acted. And now they’re back at their usual place and it’s like all Eddie remembers was a dream. Except for how it isn’t.

A shadow enters the corner of Eddie’s field vision and he turns his head in time to see Richie taking the sit near his. Okay, so this morning won’t be like the rest of them. Eddie keeps looking at him while Richie takes off his jacket and places it on his lap, then he turns to Eddie and smiles again.

“Hi,” he says. Eddie blinks, looking a little startled. Richie doesn’t stop looking at him.

“Are the rest of the seats taken?” Eddie asks, and he maybe sounds a little rougher than he intended to, because Richie snorts a laugh but his smile fades. Eddie feels a knot in his stomach.

“No, but I thought we could be trip buddies, and you can look after me so I don’t go missing,” Richie says, looking at Eddie. He wrinkles his nose then, making a face. “Unless… You know, if I’m really bothering you, then tell me and I’ll go bug someone else.”

Richie sounds serious, and that’s probably the first time Eddie has heard him talk that way. The knot in his stomach tightens. It’s his fault, he made Richie feel that way. He wants to say ‘no, you’re not really bothering me, I just never knew how to deal with my own feelings and just thinking about having a crush on you makes me want to set myself on fire’ but, of course, he can’t. He can’t let Richie believe he’s bothering him either, so Eddie does the best next thing.

“I can’t let you go bother someone else, I’m a good citizen, I need to protect these people,” Eddie says, making a resigned face. Richie looks at him closer and twists his lips, like he’s considering.

“So you’ll sacrifice for them and bear with me?” He asks, holding back a smile when Eddie nods. “But, you know, there are some pairs of empty seats. I could go sit there and I wouldn’t bother anyone.”

“Yeah, well…” Eddie starts, clearing his throat and looking away when he speaks again, trying to ignore the heat on his cheeks. “Someone could always go and sit near you without really knowing the threat you represent. So, I’m afraid I can’t let you go now. You’re under arrest,” he says, giggling like stupid when he says the last words because he can’t believe he just said that. It makes Richie smile, though, and Eddie can see the amusement on his face when he looks back at Richie, along with something else Eddie can’t point out.

“Are you an undercover cop?” Richie leans in to whisper, and he gets so close Eddie can feel his breath on his cheek.

“Fuck no, a cop? No,” Eddie says, turning his face to look at Richie too. Richie doesn’t move, though, and Eddie feels his heart speeding up when he realizes how close they are. He doesn’t move either, and he tries not to choke on his words when he says, looking at Richie’s eyes. “I’m a superhero.”

There’s a moment of silence after that. A moment where Eddie only can hear the sound of the bus moving and some quiet mumble of other people talking. Neither of them say anything, and neither of them move, they just hold each other’s gaze for as long as they can. Eddie really wants to win this time. He doesn’t want to be the first to look away.

And he kind of does win, if we count looking away as looking somewhere else apart from each other’s eyes, because Richie does look somewhere else. It’s just a millisecond, his eyes moving down from Eddie’s eyes to Eddie’s lips, going back up immediately. Eddie sees it, though. Eddie feels it. He feels it all over his skin and under it.

“Never met a superhero before, Mr. Kaspbrak,” Richie says, licking his lips before he smiles. “Are you here to put me under control?”

“I’m here to kick your ass and keep you in line,” Eddie answers, and that makes Richie laugh, breaking the eye contact momentarily but being back as soon as he can control himself.

“Well, I can’t wait to see you try,” Richie says, and Eddie scoffs.

“You might be surprised.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it…” Richie laughs again, softer this time. “You’re not like I thought you were, Eddie Kaspbrak. You looked like a little smiling cupcake and it turns out you’re a little ball of fire.”

“Little?” Eddie asks, pretending to feel offended.

“Well, you are little,” Richie nods, using his thumb and forefinger to specify how little he thinks Eddie is.

“Are you sure of that?” Eddie asks, and he doesn’t know where that came from, but there are parts of his brain that are screaming at him to slow down and some others are setting everything else on fire. Eddie feels a weird turn inside his stomach when he sees something in Richie’s eyes changing.

“I guess you’re gonna need to prove me wrong sometime,” Richie says, lowering his voice. This time is Eddie the one who looks away, really away, biting the inside of his lips to control the number of things he’s feeling inside.

 

*

 

“I think we’re flirting,” Eddie says while they’re having lunch. Stan stops right when he was about to bite his sandwich, turning his face to look at Eddie. “I mean. Richie and I.”

“Oh,” Stan nods, trying to keep his serious face but chuckling after a few seconds. “Sorry. It’s just really funny. I keep thinking of the guy you described to me at first and how it ended up being Richie Tozier.”

“Yeah. Hilarious,” Eddie rolls his eyes. He looks down at his food, making a face. “I don’t know, he didn’t seem that stupid this morning…”

“He’s not stupid,” Stan says, and then he stops. “Okay. He is, but I mean he’s not stupid in a bad way. He’s just… fucking annoying,” Stan laughs, shrugging. “But he’s not a bad person.” He looks at Eddie with a knowing smile. “You have my blessing, if that’s what you need.”

“Shut up, it’s not that,” Eddie quickly replies, but he looks at Stan, biting his lips when a stupid smile opens on his face. “I mean… He’s still hot. But he’s also infuriating and he makes awful bad jokes and he acts like a fucking ten-year-old.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Trashmouth,” Stan says with a smirk, “but I guess that doesn’t matter too much to you, since you said it with that smile on your face,” he adds, and only then Eddie notices he is, in fact, smiling. So know he’s smiling but also red. “Eddie, it’s okay that you like Richie. For real. I promise there are a lot of people worse than him.”

That’s true, Eddie guesses. He doesn’t really know a lot of people there, but Richie can’t be the worse. Anyway, it doesn’t matter that much, he can allow himself to like assholes, it’s not like he’s going to fall in love with the guy. Flirting a little never hurt anybody, and it can make Eddie’s trips to the city a lot less boring.

So he relaxes himself a little, and just lets it flow. Eddie is not going to stop anything but he’s not going to encourage it either. Whatever happens, happens. And that’s how he starts sharing seats with Richie every morning, hearing his bad jokes and even worse pick up lines, but also just talking. That’s how Eddie learns the reason Richie lives in ‘shitty-town’ as he calls it it’s because he still lives with his parents. Eddie doesn’t think that’s weird at first because he does live with his mom too, but then he remembers he living with his mom is also weird. According to Richie, the reason he still lives there is because he wants to save enough money to buy a house, so that way he knows once he leaves, he leaves for good.

“When I’m out of my parent’s house I’m not gonna come back. That’s why renting is not an option. Renting doesn’t feel definitive enough.”

Eddie doesn’t ask farther, but he totally understands the need of running away from your family, even if he’s too much of a coward to do the same himself. He hopes Richie can do what he wants to do, although Eddie is not sure how much money Richie can save. He works at the Mad Sweeney, Eddie learns too, the morning shift most days. Beverly, the bartender Eddie met that night, is his best friend in the whole wide world, and Richie says he’s glad to share space with such an amazing woman. At first Eddie really thinks Richie has a crush on Beverly, but as the days pass he understands that’s just the way Richie talks. His constant flirting means actually nothing.

Eddie has to confess he feels a little bummed out by his discovery but, at the end of the day, he feels relieved. Now he knows he doesn’t need to feel awkward or anxious around Richie, he knows he can just be himself. He doesn’t need to impress Richie because Richie is not interested in him that way. And that’s okay. 

He talks about it with Stan and Stan agrees that Richie may seem flirty when he’s just trying to be nice. According to Stan, Richie’s social skills are weird, like he’s not shy or awkward but sometimes it seems like he’s from another planet. That day Eddie and Stan spend the evening joking about Richie being an alien. That night Eddie has a really creepy sex dream he tries to forget about as soon as he wakes up.

Knowing nothing will happen with Richie doesn’t stop Eddie from letting things flow between them, though. In fact, now that Eddie is more comfortable being himself around the guy, it’s like they’ve bonded a little bit more, like they really are friends now. It’s weird, because they fight a lot, or mostly Eddie rants and Richie laughs and pinches his cheeks and calls him cute/dear/love. Eddie still blushes because he can’t help it. But even when they fight, or when Eddie complains about something Richie does or say, they still keep talking like nothing happened, like that’s just the way they interact with each other and both of them are okay with it.

Eddie is comfortable sassing Richie and Richie is comfortable picking on Eddie, and Eddie is almost sure Richie actually likes when he gets sassy. Eddie kind of likes Richie’s stupid ways to get on his nerves too, but he’ll be dead before admitting it out loud. 

He never thought he would wake up in the morning eager to go take the fucking bus.

 

*

 

Being from Maine, Eddie is used to the cold. The winter in Ireland is nothing compared to the winter at home, and Eddie doesn’t mean that subjectively. It is an objective opinion. Statistically, the winter in Maine is absolutely worse than the winter in Ireland. That’s why Eddie can’t believe it when wakes up that Thursday morning and he’s fucking _freezing._

It’s not even snowing, for God’s sake, and still, it’s the first time Eddie really thinks of skipping classes and staying in bed. He’s shaking while he prepares breakfast, warming his hands on the stove and drinking everything almost boiling, trying to warm himself a little.

He throws on almost every piece of clothing he can. He would wear his entire closet if he could. So, when he finally gathers the courage to walk out the door, he looks like he could roll down the street. He’s wearing his huge scarf wrapped around his neck and half of his face, a kind of ridiculous wool hat pushed down to his eyebrows, four layers of clothes and ankle-high boots.

He walks fast to the bus stop (or as fast as he can considering he’s probably wearing half his weight in clothes) not because he’s eager to arrive, but because he hopes that can warm him up. He doesn’t even recognize Richie sitting on his bench until he’s really close. He’s also wearing a hat and a scarf, (not as big as Eddie’s) a pair of loud orange gloves, and a leather jacket with wool lining that looks really warm and cozy. There’s also a cigarette in his hand. Of course.

“Looking good, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie chuckles when Eddie is close enough for him to hear him. Eddie just rolls his eyes, sitting down and blowing at his hands. It’s really, really fucking cold.

“Do they pay you for making up awful nicknames?” Eddie asks, rubbing his hands together to make them warmer.

“I wish. I’d be filthy rich,” Richie says, observing Eddie’s moves. “You know gloves exist, right?” He shows Eddie his own gloved hands.

“They don’t work on me. It’s like my hands are dead, they don’t…” Eddie looks at Richie bringing his cigarette to his lips, keeping it there and taking off his gloves, moving both of his hands to hold Eddie’s, “get… warm…” His last works are almost a whisper, and he forgets the rest of the sentence. Richie’s hands are huge compared to his, and they’re impossibly warm considering the weather.

“Jesus, Eds, you’re freezing,” Richie says, trying to talk without dropping the cigarette from his lips, rubbing Eddie’s hands with his own, covering them completely.

“It’s just my hands. Also, don’t call me Eds,” Eddie says, but his voice has no power at all since he’s still trying to recover for having Richie touching him like he is. They’ve never touched each other before, not really, and this feels too intimate for a first time, even if it’s not.

The cigarette between Richie’s lips keeps burning, and Eddie feels the loss of one of Richie’s hands when he moves it to take the cigarette from his mouth, taking a drag and flicking ash off it. He offers it to Eddie after that, and Eddie just needs to make a disgusted face, moving his head away, for Richie to laugh and move the cigarette away from him.

“Oh, so you’re one of those,” Richie says, taking another drag and smiling at Eddie, blowing the smoke away. He moves the hand that was still holding both of Eddie’s, but he doesn’t take it away. Instead of that, he tangles his fingers with the closest of Eddie’s hands and tucks it into the pocket of his jacket.

“You mean someone who cares about his health? Yeah, I’m one of those,” Eddie says, trying to ignore how his hand is still holding Richie’s inside his pocket. It’s so close to Richie’s body, so warm. His other hand is freezing, though. Eddie wouldn’t mind getting it closer to Richie’s body too.

“We’re all gonna die in the end, you know?” Richie smiles. “The sooner, the better,” he winks at Eddie.

“You’re such an asshole…” Eddie shakes his head, and he knows Richie is joking like he always is, but speaking about death always reminds him of his father and he can’t bring himself to smile.

Richie looks at him, taking the cigarette to his lips once more. They stay in silence for a few minutes, and it shows that Richie isn’t used to the silence. Eddie isn’t uncomfortable, though.

“I was joking,” Richie finally says, clearing his throat and casually letting his cigarette fall from his fingers, stepping on it. Eddie looks at it, though, the crushed cigarette on the pavement, half unfinished. “I’m not that emo. Death may come when it may come. I don’t plan on dying before my time comes.”

Eddie does smile this time, shaking his head and looking at Richie. And they don’t really know each other for too long, they’ve been seeing each other at this same bus stop for a few months now, but they’ve just been talking to each other for about a bunch of weeks. However, Eddie suddenly feels comfortable enough to share with Richie something he hasn’t even shared with Stan yet.

“My dad died of cancer, you know? When I was… too little to remember,” Eddie says, smiling bitterly and swallowing the lump he hadn’t notices had formed in his throat. Richie looks at him in silence for a second, blinking, like he’s having a hard time understanding what Eddie just said.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Eddie,” Richie says, and Eddie kinds of want to cry but he also wants to laugh because it’s the first time he sees Richie this serious. “I didn’t… I’m an asshole, you’re right.”

“You didn’t know,” Eddie shrugs. “But yeah, I think that’s probably the reason I’m kind of a health freak,” he says, laughing awkwardly. He doesn’t talk about his mom. He’s said too much for today.

“Taking care of yourself doesn’t mean you’re a freak,” Richie says, and Eddie wants to say ‘no, you don’t understand, I really am a freak’, but then he feels Richie’s thumb stroking his hand, the hand still in Richie’s pocket, the hand still holding Richie’s, and he can’t speak anymore. It’s such a small gesture, and still so big, the lump in Eddie’s throat comes back again for a whole different reason. “I probably should learn a bit from you. I’m probably too careless for my own good.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Eddie laughs, looking at Richie again. “Smoking is probably the nastiest habit ever. Like, everything about it is disgusting. The smell, the taste, everything.”

“Are you saying I smell disgusting??” Richie asks, laughing too, pretending to be shocked.

“You smell like cigarettes, so yeah. Disgusting,” Eddie chuckles, leaning in to sniff, making a disgusted face. The truth is Richie doesn’t smell disgusting. He does smell like smoke and Eddie doesn’t particularly like it, but there’s also something else, there’s a sweeter smell, maybe perfume or deodorant, and a distinctive smell that, Eddie is sure ,belongs just to Richie.

“I don’t taste disgusting, though,” Richie replies, wiggling his eyebrows, making Eddie laugh and look down to hide his face, hide his blush.

“I bet you do,” Eddie says, looking up at Richie without really moving his face too much.

“Yeah?” Richie asks, and Eddie knows what’s about to happen before he really knows. He knows because he swallows and licks his lips and moves his head up, but he doesn’t really know because he still gasps when Richie leans in and kisses him.

It really tastes disgusting, bitter and ashy, but Richie’s lips are so warm on his, his tongue burning when it touches Eddie’s, there’s no way Eddie is going to pull away. Instead of that, he opens his lips and kisses back, his whole body shaking when he does, because of the cold, Eddie lies to himself. He holds Richie’s hand tighter, digging his nails in the skin, breathing into Richie’s mouth when he feels the lack of oxygen, dragging his teeth on Richie’s bottom lip before the kiss breaks because he wants to bite him so bad. He wants to stay right there where he is, hooked on Richie’s mouth.

It’s like waking up from a dream, when he opens his eyes and the real world is right there, around him, telling him this has really happened. Richie looks at him and smiles, his eyes lowering to Eddie’s lips for the last time before he moves away. Not too much, though.

“Disgusting?” Richie asks, and Eddie doesn’t really want to answer. He just wants to kiss him back, to keep kissing him, to forget about where they are or why they’re there. He just wants Richie’s lips back.

“Gross,” Eddie says, licking his lips.

“You sure?” Richie asks again, his nose brushing Eddie’s.

“So gross,” Eddie says again but, by the tone he uses, he could have said ‘fuck me’ as well. Richie moves closer, and Eddie closes his eyes because he’s ready for anything Richie wants to do. He wants it.

What he feels it’s the air, though, the cold air hitting his face and Richie tugging at his hand. He opens his eyes and frowns immediately, watching Richie standing up, laughing and pulling at him.

“Come on, Eds. The bus is here,” he says. Eddie is ready to complain until he looks past Richie and sees said bus waiting for them, people already getting on it.

Eddie groans and walks with Richie, still holding his hand until they need to get their bus card. Eddie takes the opportunity to get his phone from his pocket, walking behind Richie while he types out and tweets.

_To the guy at the bus stop: I hate you so so much._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course you hate him. Sure, Eds ;)
> 
> By the way, in case you were wondering (I don't think you are but whatever), the version of Give In To Me Richie's band was singing at the bar last chapter is Three Days Grace's cover.
> 
> You can hear it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ikSPzB-I_W4) 
> 
> Also, if you want to contact me, send me some prompt, anything, this is my [tumblr](http://arrephoros.tumblr.com)


	5. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, how's it going? Here's a new chapter and I warn you, it's _loooooong._ So I hope you enjoy it and don't find it too tiresome. Thank you for every one of your comments and kudos. You are awesome and I love you all  <3 <3

 

 

 

“Two weeks, Stan. It’s been two fucking weeks.”

It hasn’t been two weeks. But almost. It feels like two fucking years anyway and Eddie is getting really desperate.

“You’ve said that already,” Stan says, not even looking at Eddie anymore. They’re in Stan’s apartment and they’re supposed to be working on an essay due next morning. Stan is actually doing some research and writing down ideas. Eddie is just ranting.

It’s been two weeks (almost two weeks, whatever) since Richie decided to ruin Eddie’s life kissing him at the bus stop. Eddie is not delusional, he knows it happened, he knows he didn’t imagine it, but sometimes he even doubts his own sanity because, after that day, Nothing. Else. Happened.

Eddie didn’t expect Richie to suddenly declare his undying love for him, but at least something? How can Richie kiss him and then act like nothing happened? And it’s literally like nothing happened, because Richie still talks to him in the mornings and makes stupid jokes and teases him. It makes Eddie anxious, even more than usual, because he doesn’t know what to expect and at the same time he’s expecting everything. And getting nothing.

There’s only one thing Richie has changed. Eddie has noticed even when he suspects Richie doesn’t want him to. It started just the day after the kiss, Eddie arrived at the bus stop like every morning and Richie was there, smelling like cigarettes, but not smoking. Eddie didn’t mention it and Richie didn’t either, so they just talked like every other day. It wasn’t until a few days later when Eddie was walking to the bus stop and saw Richie in his usual place, a cigarette between his lips, until he noticed Eddie was coming. The moment Richie locked his eyes with Eddie he took the cigarette from his lips and put it out, throwing it away.

“So he does that really fucking cute thing not smoking when I’m around like he gives a fuck about me, but he doesn’t kiss me again, or even talk about it,” Eddie complains once again. Stan closes his laptop and looks at him, sighing and resting his face on his hand.

“Why don’t you do it? This is clearly bothering you. And bothering me. So you should just talk to him,” Stan suggests, like he’s been doing since Eddie started talking about this.

“But he was the one who kissed me! He’s the only one who knows his reasons to do it. I can’t just go and ask him or kiss him myself!” Eddie throws his hands in the air, his cheeks getting red just thinking about it. “What if… What if he just… you know,” he lowers his head, sighing. “Maybe he was just messing with me.”

“Okay, no,” Stan moves, sitting up and looking at Eddie. “Now you’re making things up. First of all, this is not a teenage drama, where the popular boy messes with the shy, ugly girl and she falls in love but then she discovers it was all a bet with his friends. Maybe you don’t know this, Eddie, but those things don’t really happen in real life.”

“You know too much about teenage dramas…” Eddie makes a questioning face, laughing when Stan just rolls his eyes.

“And second of all, even if they did, I don’t know who you think Richie is but I promise you he’s not popular enough to pull that off. I mean… he’s not popular at all.”

“And what do you know about being popular, anyway?” Eddie teases him, but those things don’t really work with Stan. “I don’t know, Stan. He’s cooler than me and I have a crush on him, that’s all he needs to pull it off.” He blushes harder when he realizes he just admitted he has a crush on Richie, but Eddie guesses it’s obvious now. “I just need a sign, something that tells me he’s interested too… Then I’d make a move.”

“You’re just like a shy finch,” Stan says, and then he laughs. Eddie blinks a couple of times. What did he just call him? “Like, sometimes female finches have to encourage male finches to do their mating dance and sing. Maybe Richie should give you a long blade of grass to woo you into doing something.”

Eddie blinks a couple of times more.

“Did you just compared me to a _bird?”_

“I did,” Stan laughs again, looking back at his book. “Just do something, Eddie. The sooner you do it, the sooner you find out what’s going on between you two. But now…” Stan taps his book with his finger and then he brings said finger to his lips in a sign of silence. And that’s Stan’s way to end the conversation. Eddie is not amused, but can’t complain either.

 

*

 

Doing something would be easier if Eddie had a way to contact Richie or talk to him anywhere else apart from the fucking bus stop. They’re relationship it’s so fucking weird they haven’t even exchanged phone numbers yet. Sometimes Eddie feels like the bus stop and the bus itself are part of a parallel universe where he and Richie are friends or friends with benefits or whatever, but once they get to the city and part ways, they’re back in the real world and all of that is over.

He thinks about it while he walks to the damned bus stop. Is it really worth asking Richie what’s going on? Does Eddie care that much? It’s not like they’re going to start hanging out or anything, or are they? Are they actually friends or just trip buddies like Richie said that first time? Would they become make out buddies if they talked about it? Eddie is trying really hard to convince himself it’s not worth it just so he can keep being a pussy, but he forgets about all of that the moments he sees Richie.

He’s leaning on the stop sign as usual, but he’s wearing sunglasses even if it’s not sunny at all. And he’s chewing gum. Loudly. Obnoxiously.

“‘Sup, Eds?” He asks, turning his head to Eddie and blowing a pink bubble until it pops. Eddie snorts a laugh.

“You are a weird human being,” he says. _And I like you so much_ , he thinks, too. He doesn’t say that out loud, though.

“I’m living in the future. You mere mortals can’t understand.”

Eddie wants to ask what gum has to do with the future, and how living in the future can make him immortal. He doesn’t ask any of that, though, because he suspects the answers would only bring out more questions.

“What happened to your cigarettes?” He asks instead, letting out a giggle when he hears Richie chewing his gum even louder now.

“Apparently they’re bad for your health,” Richie says, shrugging and making a face. “Who knew, right?”

“Right,” Eddie says, a little smile still on his face. “Didn’t take you for the gum type, though.”

“It’s a recently discovered habit. It can be equally annoying as smoking,”  Richie answers, chewing loudly while he speaks, “but I can do cool tricks with it too. Look,” he says, blowing a bubble and closing his lips, trying to blow another one within the first bigger one. It explodes before he manages to do it. “I need to work on it,” Richie wrinkles his nose, making Eddie laugh. Richie smiles too, leaning on the stop sign, chewing again. “It also makes me look like a bad bitch.”

Eddie loses it, laughing out loud, trying to cover his mouth with his hand. Richie just watches him amusedly, and there’s something warm in his eyes too. Eddie takes a deep breath when he can finally control his laugh, looking at Richie too and clearing his throat. They just look at each other in silence for a few seconds, but it makes Eddie feel butterflies inside.

He swallows and takes a deep breath, looking at Richie and chewing the inside of his lips. It’s been two weeks. Two fucking weeks, and Richie hasn’t said anything yet. Eddie starts feeling more anxious, but he closes his eyes and looks away when he opens them again, picking under his nails just to do something with his hands.

“I bet it tastes better too,” Eddie finally says, and he even manages to sound casual and not like his heart is going to burst at any moment.

“Can’t complain,” Richie replies, looking at Eddie with a curious smile. “It’s sour raspberry. Wanna try it?” He asks. 

Eddie licks his lips and blinks, shrugging because he can’t answer with words. He can’t say yes, even if that’s what he wants to say, but he won’t say no either, so whatever happens it’s up to Richie. He shifts in his place when Richie just smiles wider and moves closer, taking a quick look around, at the people around them. What would they say if Richie kissed him right there? What would happen?

“Here,” Richie says, and Eddie frowns before his eyes move to Richie’s hand, where he’s holding out a stick of gum. Eddie feels the embarrassment blushing his cheeks, and he takes the gum with a muttered ‘thanks’, pressing his lips together and looking away again.

He feels so stupid. Why would he think Richie would kiss him? Fuck, it’s obvious he’s not gonna kiss him again, he just did it to mess with Eddie the first time and he’s probably forgotten about it. Eddie hears Richie ask if he’s not going to try the gum, but Eddie just says something about saving it for later that ends up sounding ruder than he intended to. He knows Richie is looking at him even if he’s looking away, he can feel Richie’s questioning eyes on his face. Eddie wishes he could say the things he thinks. He wishes he could be more open, he wishes he could speak his mind.

The bus comes and Eddie gets in, paying for the ride, walking down the aisle and sitting in his usual seat. He waits for Richie to sit by his side like he always does, but then he sees Richie walking past him, sitting at the back of the bus. Eddie feels a knot in his stomach. Did he offend Richie? Maybe he should have eaten the fucking gum and swallow his feelings. It wasn’t Richie’s fault that he was stupid, he shouldn’t have acted like that.

Eddie feels his phone vibrating in his pockets and takes it out to see a screenshot of a text from Richie sent via Airdrop on the lock screen.

‘ _Come here, asshole. I saved you a seat_ ’

Eddie frowns and looks at the back, trying to spot Richie. He can see some messy curls all the way at the back, so he stands up even if the bus is already moving, walking the best can without stumbling, holding himself on the seats at both of his sides until he gets to the back.

“Here,” Richie says, tapping the seat by his side with his hand.

“What is this? You’re becoming antisocial now, so you need to sit away from the rest of humans?” Eddie asks, leaving his messenger bag on the floor in front of his seat before he sits down. “I risked my life coming here while the bus is moving, so you better have a good—” 

Before he can notice it, Richie’s hands are on his face, pulling at him to crash their mouths together. Eddie gasps and fists Richie’s hoodie, and Richie takes the opportunity to push the tip of his tongue into Eddie’s mouth, licking him and sending shivers down his spine. Eddie can’t help kissing back, maybe too eager, but he’s been waiting for this almost two fucking weeks.

Richie laughs into his mouth but he doesn’t stop kissing Eddie, moving one of his hands to Eddie’s waist and pulling at him closer. Eddie almost wants to get on top of him, straddle him, rub against him like a horny teenager, but they’re on a bus (at the back, thank God, thank Richie) and Eddie is not that desperate. Yet.

“Is this why you got all cranky when I gave you the gum?” Richie asks, giggling when Eddie gives him a dirty look. “I thought you wanted a piece of gum! I promise!”

“Shut the fuck up, it’s been two fucking weeks,” Eddie says, the last part slipping out. He closes his eyes when Richie’s open wide. He fucked up. He gave away himself.

“You were counting??” Richie asks, totally amused. “Jesus, Eds, you’re so _cute!_ ” And Richie moves his hand to Eddie’s cheek before Eddie has the time to bark out: “Don’t you dare!” It’s too late, Richie is already pinching his cheek with a stupid grin on his face. “I can’t believe you were waiting for me to kiss you. You’re so adorable.”

“Shut the fuck up, it was you the one who kissed me out of the blue!” Eddie tries to defend himself. “You wanted it too.”

“Of course I wanted it,” Richie says, and Eddie wasn’t expecting that. “I always want to kiss you. You’re like a pocket-size volcano, you’re so fucking cute I want to kiss you and bite your cheeks and eat you alive.”

Eddie feels his temperature rising so bad he’s sure he could set the seat on fire. He must be red as a beet now, he can picture the steam coming out of his body. A pocket-size volcano, so fucking funny, Richie.

“Then why didn’t you?” Eddie dares to ask, although his voice barely comes out through his gritting teeth.

“I did. You just said it. I did kiss you, but…” Richie shrugs and leans back in his seat, still looking at Eddie. “I mean, you never said you wanted me to do it again. You didn’t say shit, actually. And I may be bold, but I’m not a creep. I can take no for an answer.”

“But I never said…” Eddie starts, but he stops before he finishes. It’s true, he never said no, but he didn’t say yes either. He bites his bottom lip, lowering his head. Richie’s right. Eddie looks back at him and sighs, wrinkling his nose. “Okay. You win.”

“I win? What does that mean?” Richie laughs.

“It means you win, okay? You win!” 

“But I don’t understand what you—“

Eddie fists Richie’s hoodie again and pulls him in for a rough kiss. Richie’s laughing like the son of a bitch he is, but he’s also kissing back. Eddie bites Richie’s bottom lip just to make him shut up, but that only makes Richie let out a breathy moan that goes straight down Eddie’s spine, making him shiver.

“You do taste so much better,” Eddie says when he breaks the kiss, breathing a bit faster now. He looks at Richie and squints his eyes. “Wait. What did you do with your gum?”

“I swallowed it.”

“WHAT?” Eddie screams and he slaps his own mouth shut when he realizes he’s still on the bus. “Are you actually a fucking infant? Who the fuck swallows their gum in their twenties?? It’s so disgusting I can’t…” Eddie stops when he sees Richie trying to hold back his laughter and failing, cracking up when he can’t help it anymore. “You asshole. It was a lie.”

“I throw it in the trashcan before getting on the bus,” Richie laughs. “You were so busy being pissed at me you didn’t even notice,” he keeps laughing and Eddie flips him off, looking away when Richie puts his arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer. “Hey, no, come on. Hey,” he whispers, pushing his nose through Eddie’s hair and kissing his cheek. And Eddie is only human, a pretty weak one, so he kind of melts a little and looks at Richie, smiling when he sees him smile. “So… does that means we’ll have a daily make out session on our way to the city? Or do I have to wait two more weeks for you to kiss me again?” He teases, and Eddie punches him on the shoulder.

“Shut up, idiot. I was the one waiting…” Eddie says, sighing and looking down but also cuddling a little on Richie’s chest. “I thought you didn’t want to. Like, I’m not used to cool guys kissing me just because. I thought you were just… I don’t know, messing with me.”

“What? No,” Richie moves to look at Eddie, but he doesn’t take his arm around Eddie away. “First of all, I don’t kiss people to mess with them. I have like, plenty other options for that. I’m the master of messing with people and kissing is not in my repertoire. And second, who the fuck told you I was a cool guy?” He asks, laughing. “‘Cause, baby, they _lied_ ,” Richie says, nodding at his own words. Eddie tries not to think about how Richie just called him baby.

“You’re cool, come on. You’re… Fuck, whatever. You’re hot and you sing for a band and you’re all extroverted and funny and… tall.”

“Jeez, Eds, you’re gonna make me blush,” Richie laughs, but he has a warm look. “Okay, just so you know, let’s make this clear. I’m not cool. I’m the farthest from cool. I’m a nerd, my band is full of nerds too, people usually can’t stand me for more than fifteen minutes, and I used to wear some big ass glasses until senior year so that took away any chance for me to be ‘hot’,” he says, making the quotation marks with his fingers. “I’m not cool, Eddie. I’m a loser.”

Eddie stays in silence for a second, looking at Richie. He smiles and makes a resigned face.

“Well… I’m a loser too, so…”

They both laugh and Richie shakes his head, hugging Eddie closer with just an arm, kissing his temple and sighing, and Eddie cuddles with him just because Richie is always so goddamned warm, but also because he feels good in Richie’s arms. He feels like he belongs there, somehow.

“Shit, Eds, we need to make up a story about how we first met,” Richie says, clicking his tongue. “I can’t tell my future children I met my soulmate at a fucking bus stop, that’d be so lame!”

“You’re such a fucking asshole,” Eddie punches him again, but he mostly just laughs, not really moving from where he is. Maybe Richie is joking and maybe they’ve just kissed twice, but something tiny inside his chest allows Eddie to believe Richie’s words even if it’s just for a second, just because how good it’d feel if they were true.

 

*

 

They exchange phone numbers. Finally.

Eddie doesn’t know what to text him or when, but luckily this time he doesn’t need to wait too long before it’s Richie the one who texts him. He says his band plays at the Mad Sweeney that weekend, and he’d like Eddie to go see them. “I promise I won’t ruin any song you like,” Richie texts, making Eddie laugh. Eddie almost wants to text back he doubts it, since Richie’s voice can ruin pretty much every song, but he stops himself and texts he’ll be there instead.

He wanted to go anyway because Mike’s band plays too and that’s something he really looks forward to. He’s staying at Stan’s again, and Eddie smiles when he thinks about how he used to be afraid of bothering Stan staying at his house. Now he’s so used to it it’s like he’s been doing this forever. He’s even thinking about Stan’s offer. Since he’s so far from home and Christmas is coming, Stan has said to him he can come home and celebrate Hanukkah with his family. Eddie is not sure yet, but he’ll give it some thought.

When Eddie starts dressing up that evening he tries to convince himself he’s not trying to look good for Richie, but it’s the first time he wears those skinny jeans since he came to Ireland and he’s tried at least three different hairstyles before he walked out of the house. Stan looks at him with a smug smile all the way to the bar. 

So, Mike’s band? Absolutely amazing. Eddie knows he must look stupid but he’s honestly shocked. That guy can _sing!_ And holy fuck, Eddie would shit himself if he was going to play next after that band. He really pities Richie’s band, although they’re not that bad, at least not the rest of the guys playing. Richie is the one who ruins the songs. Eddie is not trying to be mean, it’s just Richie is that awful singing.

Mike comes to them after they finish their performance, along with the rest of the band. They all seem really nice people, and they talk for a while after Eddie decides to go saying hi to Beverly. He needs a little bit of space too, and Mike and Stan understand. Eddie isn’t good with crowds, he’s too much of an introvert for that. He tolerates big groups of people for a while, but there’s a point where he just needs to get away and _breathe_.

“Eddie Kaspbrak!” Beverly says when he gets to the bar and smiles at her. “Virgin Collins, right?” She asks and Eddie laughs.

“Is there any other drink you recommend?” he asks, and she makes a thinking face, moving and starting to prepare a cocktail for him. Eddie sits on the stool and looks at the stage. There’s another band playing now, this one is moderately good, although Eddie suspects no band could sound really good after Mike’s band. “Do you know when Richie’s band plays?”

“I think they go next,” Bev says, handing Eddie the drink. “Try this one. I think you might like it.”

It’s not bad, the drink, Eddie appreciates Beverly’s effort, but she’s not Mike, she couldn’t read his mind that well. He stays at the bar, watching the current band finish and Richie’s one take the stage. It’s a weird feeling, the excitement of seeing Richie on that stage and the fear of hearing him sing. He laughs when the first song starts, drinking the rest of his drink.

He locks eyes with Richie sometimes and smiles, and Richie even winks at him once, making Eddie look away and blush. They play some original songs and some covers, but this time they’re not too famous ones. Eddie wonders if they changed their repertoire because of what he said to Richie. He feels a little bad but, anyway, he’s glad Richie is not ruining good songs.

“You guys are together now?” Beverly suddenly asks, and Eddie turns his head quickly, looking at her with wide eyes. She laughs and adds: “Sorry. Richie’s been talking about you non-stop lately.”

“No, it’s okay. I… I don’t know, to be honest,” he laughs too, rubbing the back of his neck. “We haven’t talked about it. We just see each other in the mornings and…” Eddie blushes. Make out. That was the rest of the sentence. They just see each other in the mornings and make out. The ride to the city is 30 fucking minutes and they don’t have time to talk because they’re busy making out.

“You can hang out with us, you know? It’s mostly Richie, my boyfriend Ben, and Myra, a friend. We’re pretty chill,” Beverly says. Eddie doesn’t doubt it. In fact, he’s just met Beverly twice and he’s felt pretty comfortable.

“Thanks, but I don’t have a lot of free time. You know, I could go some time… but I’ll prefer if Richie came to college with me,” he jokes, laughing. Beverly laughs too, moving to make some drinks but always keeping in contact with Eddie while serving other people.

“I don’t think Richie’s ready to go back to college,” she says, “but we’ve gone to the library some time to keep company to Ben. He’s in college too, and he practically lives in the library. Maybe you’ve seen him around.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, looking at Beverly as she picks up her phone and shows Eddie a picture of her and Ben. He doesn’t remember seeing that guy around, but he doesn’t usually pay attention to people in general. “You said ‘going back to college’ speaking about Richie? Is he a dropout or something?”

“Oh, no,” she laughs, “he finished it. He has a bachelor’s degree.”

“What?” Eddie asks, frowning and laughing too. He looks at Richie playing on stage and then back at Beverly. She must be kidding.

“Yeah, something related to dentistry. His dad is a dentist,” she explains, and she looks serious. Eddie blinks and looks back at Richie.

“But he’s my age,” he laughs, shaking his head and looking at Beverly.

“Yeah, he got to college when he was fifteen. He’s one of those fucking gifted kids,” she laughs. “He’s smart as shit.”

“You have to be kidding me…” Eddie says, not even looking at Beverly anymore, just paying attention to Richie. “Why is he working here, then?”

“Well…” Beverly twists her lips. “Maybe you should ask him.”

Eddie thinks about it, he thinks about it for the rest of the show, but he forgets about it the moment Richie walks towards them with a stupid smile on his face. He forgets about anything, to be honest. He only thinks about how dumb Richie looks with his hair damp with sweat, his cheeks slightly red, his long fingers brushing Eddie’s cheek when he pushes a lock of hair behind Eddie’s ear and compliments his look at the same time he makes a dirty joke about Eddie’s mom. Richie is confusing, but Eddie can’t stop smiling.

They stay at the bar for a few minutes, talking to Beverly, and then they go to meet Stan, Mike, and the rest of the guys too. Eddie ignores the knowing looks his friends shoot him and just engage in some small talk. He’s surprised to see Richie is not better than him at small talk, only instead of not talking like Eddie usually does, Richie talks, a lot, about some really random weird things. It makes Stan roll his eyes and Mike smile, but some of Mike’s friends have this ‘what’s going on with this guy’ face.

Eddie understands those guys don’t know Richie and it’s easy to misjudge him (he actually did the first time he interacted with Richie), but that doesn’t make him feel better, so he holds Richie’s hand and pulls at him.

“Let’s go for a walk?” Eddie says, and Richie looks at him surprised just for a second before he smiles and nods.

“Sure, Spaghetti babe,” Richie replies. Eddie just closes his eyes and sighs, yanking at Richie to get him out there.

 

*

 

They’re out of the bar and walking down the street when Eddie realizes this is the first time he and Richie have been alone. Not at the bus stop, not on the bus, not at the bar, not at a place with more people around. They’re alone, and they’re holding hands. Shit, Eddie’s blushing so hard and they’ve not even talked yet.

“Sorry, I wanted to get out of there and I just dragged y—“

“Wanna walk to the river?” Richie asks, interrupting him, holding Eddie’s hand tighter and smiling at him. Eddie looks at him and nods, and then he also smiles because, damn, he’s happy as fuck.

So they do that, just walk and talk about Richie’s band, and the bar, and college. Richie jokes and Eddie laughs even when the jokes are not that funny. There are these bubbles in his chest coming out every time he giggles, and he feels so light he could float. He didn’t know how much he needed to be alone with Richie until this very moment.

“It was because of me, right? You dragged me out of the bar because those guys were looking at me weird,” Richie says, looking at Eddie with a soft smile. The riverside looks so pretty at night, the lights reflecting on the water and on Richie’s face. Eddie shrugs and sits on the first bench they walk by, and Richie laughs when he sits by his side. “You’re cuter than you think, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“You know what’s not cute? You calling me that,” Eddie replies, but he’s still smiling so it doesn’t matter. Richie smiles too, getting closer.

“You know what? I guess this is when I say I don’t give a fuck about what people think and stuff, but…” Richie sighs, his cheeks blushing when he shrugs. “I do give a fuck. I care even if I know I shouldn’t. So… thanks. Thank you. It means a lot that you did that for me.”

Eddie looks at Richie with wide eyes and lips closed shut. Somehow he feels he’s listening to something Richie is not used to tell, and Eddie can’t begin to explain how many things that makes him feel. So he doesn’t. He just leans in and grabs Richie’s shirt, pulling at him to press their lips together.

This kiss is not like other ones they’ve shared, though, and Eddie notices it the moment Richie opens his mouth against his and their tongues brush almost sweetly. Richie’s hands move up to hold Eddie’s face, and they both breathe into each others mouth, not daring to break the kiss. It’s cold, and Eddie is shaking, but he knows it’s not because of the weather.

“You taste so fucking good,” Richie whispers, not moving his hands from where they are, looking at Eddie straight in the eye.

“It’s… probably this cocktail Beverly made for—“

“It’s you. My mouth waters just thinking about putting my mouth on you, Eds.”

“Don’t call me—“

Richie kisses him again, harder this time, making Eddie feel this rush inside of him, his heart racing, his blood boiling. Richie groans into his mouth and Eddie melts a little, moving closer, so close now he could be on Richie’s lap if he threw his leg to the other side of Richie’s thighs. And fuck him if he isn’t aching to be on Richie’s lap, on Richie’s anything.

“Fuck, Eddie, I really want to—“

Both of them jump when a loud melody sounds, Eddie’s pocket vibrating. It forces both of them to realize they’re making out and almost dry humping in public. Eddie swallows and pushes back his hair, getting his phone to read the new text he just received.

“It’s… Um. It’s Stan. He says they’re going home so he’s asking if they should wait for me or go already,” Eddie says, looking at Richie, bitting his bottom lip. “It’s 2:30 a.m… I didn’t think it was this late.”

“Do you wanna leave? I’ll walk you. Or. Or I can walk you to Stan’s later,” Richie says, his eyes wide and moving, scanning Eddie’s face.

“I’d like to stay… but only if you want to. Like, if you have to leave too, I…” Eddie looks down, fidgeting with his hands.

“No. No, I’d like to stay too…” Richie says, letting out a breathy laugh.

There’s a moment of silence where Eddie doesn’t know what to do next. He stays there, awkwardly looking everywhere except at Richie, an uncomfortable semi hard-on in his pants, thinking about how this is becoming something bigger than he ever expected. He wonders if Richie is thinking about that too, or if he’s thinking something random and stupid. He bets for the latter.

“So. Beverly told me you went to college,” Eddie says just to break the ice. Richie groans with a smile, letting his head fall back. “What? You don’t like people knowing you’re a genius?” Eddie laughs.

“I’m shit, that’s what I am,” Richie replies with a laugh and Eddie laughs too but he doesn’t really understand. “I’m not proud of that time of my life, you know?”

“What? Why??” Eddie asks, frowning. He’d be fucking proud if he managed to accomplish what Richie has in that short amount of time.

“Well, you see, my love, good ol’ Richie was a lame ass-licker back in the day. And not in the good way. Well, also in the good way,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at Eddie. Eddie snorts a laugh and shakes his head, but he wants to keep hearing this. “I wanted mommy and daddy to be proud, you know? To… give a shit. I thought they didn’t care about me because I wasn’t working hard enough for their attention, for their… affection, whatever,” Richie shakes his head, rubbing his face with his hand. “Turned out it wasn’t like that. They’re just… They’re bad parents. They’re not bad people, but they’re bad parents. They can’t do it better. They just can’t. And I have to learn how to live with that,” Richie sighs, shrugging.

Eddie feels a knot in his stomach, so different from what he felt just minutes before. He stays in silence not only because he doesn’t know what to say, but because he’s thinking about his own family, his own mom. He thinks about how much Richie and he have in common even when they’ve lived the exact opposite. It’s still the same feeling, the feeling of knowing someone who should be biologically made to love you just… doesn’t. Not in a healthy way, at least.

“My mom controls every part of my life. Every part. And if there’s something she can’t control, she tries to guilt trip me into changing it myself. She raised me to believe she was the only one I needed, and I was a bad son if I wanted to be with anyone else. She said going out there would put myself in danger, she was worried sick every time I was out of home, so me wanting to go out was… not caring about her well being. It was like… I wanted to kill her.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath when he’s done. He doesn’t think he’s said any of that out loud ever before, and he doesn’t know how he feels about it.

“Shit, Eds. It looks like both our parents bought us a single ticket to the loony bin,” Richie jokes, but he moves his hand and holds one of Eddie’s, squeezing. He brings it to his lips when Eddie laughs and nods, but he also rubs one of his eyes where tears are beginning to cloud his gaze. “Hey. I’ve got an idea. It’s already fucking late, so what if we stay to see the sunrise and catch the first bus home? And, you know, in the meantime, we can talk…” he says, kissing Eddie’s knuckles. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie sniffs and nods with a smile. Yeah, he’s not in the mood to go to Stan’s now. He doesn’t want to leave this place. He doesn’t want to let go of Richie’s hand. “Yeah…”

 

_To the guy at the bus stop: I’m sorry I misjudged you. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known._

 

 

 


	6. Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, here we are again. As you may have noticed (or not), I've changed the rating from Mature to Explicit. This wasn't planned, but things got out of hand. I know, I know, I can't control my characters, I'm a bad writer, but what can I say ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

 

 

Eddie doesn’t remember the last time he stayed up to see the sunrise. He and Richie end up snuggling together sitting on the bench, teeth chattering and laughing because it’s so fucking cold in the morning. Eddie even tells Richie it’s okay if he wants to have a smoke. He doesn’t know if smoking increases body heat, but he guesses, since cigarettes burn, it should be warm, right? Richie declines the offer anyway, smiling at Eddie and saying he only used to smoke in the mornings (and some weed when he hangs out with Beverly too), but he doesn’t even pack smokes anymore. Eddie doesn’t say anything, but the shy smile on his face says more than words could do.

They get to the bus stop at first hour in the morning after going to Beverly’s to pick up Richie’s bag because he can’t sleep with his contacts on. They’re falling asleep on each other all the way home on the bus, cuddling into each other, seeking the warmth of their bodies. Going to Eddie’s house when they arrive seems the natural thing to do. Eddie does ask Richie if his parents won’t mind, but Richie just laughs and starts walking, hooking his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and dragging him along.

Eddie doesn’t let Richie ask, he just holds Richie’s hand the moment they get to the house and takes him to bed. They’re adults, even if they’ve been acting more like teenagers lately, so Eddie isn’t having the ‘couch or bed’ conversation. Richie is sleeping with him, no question needed. He has to admit, though, that he gets a little nervous when he sees Richie taking his clothes off to get in his bed. He even asks Richie if he wants a spare pajama.

“Do you want me to wear one?” Richie asks, and that’s all Eddie needs to hear before he gets in bed in his underwear too.

There’s a moment, just a few minutes, when Eddie feels Richie’s warm body so close to him and he doesn’t really want to sleep. So they touch, softly. They kiss, languidly and sweet, and Eddie curses under his breath when he can’t open his eyes anymore. He’s too tired. He’s too old for staying up this late, this early, fuck, whatever.

Before he notices, he falls asleep with Richie’s mouth on his.

 

*

 

Eddie is used to waking up alone in bed. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever woken up to find anyone on his bed with him. Still, the first thing he does before he opens his eyes that morning is reaching out for Richie. In fact, when Eddie opens his eyes, frowning and blinking a couple of times, it’s because the only thing his hand finds is an empty space by his side.

He looks around to check the room, and then he reaches for his phone, groaning when he sees it’s noon already. He guesses it’s fair to wake up that late since they got home almost at 7 in the morning, but still he feels like he’s wasting the day. He sits up on the edge of the bed and sighs, wondering if Richie thought the same and that’s why he’s gone. There’s no note on the drawer, no text either. If they had fucked last night (this morning) Eddie would feel like shit, but since they just had a pretty heated up sleepover… He just doesn’t know what to think.

So he doesn’t think about it. Or at least he tries to. He jumps out of bed and grabs some clothes, underwear and an old t-shirt, getting in the bathroom and turning on the faucet, letting the water fall until the temperature is perfect. His skin still smells like Richie before Eddie scrubs it clean. He doesn’t take too long, he’s efficient when it comes to his hygiene habits, always was. He had to be so his mom would be happy. He puts on his underwear and t-shirt, coming out of the bathroom with his hair still damp, using a towel to dry it.

“JESUS FUCK!” Eddie jumps and screams, dropping the towel and clutching his chest with his hand. “Do you want to give me a heart attack??”

A very present Richie holding two mugs of coffee starts laughing like a maniac in front of Eddie. His hair is a mess and he’s only wearing his underwear and what looks like one of Eddie’s t-shirt that is too short for him, so Eddie can see the trail of hair that runs down Richie’s navel and hides under the hem of his boxers. Also, glasses. It’s the first time Eddie sees Richie wearing glasses.

“It’s not funny,” Eddie deadpans, taking the mugs from Richie’s hands and putting them down on his desk. Richie keeps laughing, shaking his head and bringing a hand to his belly, looking at Eddie, talking between giggles.

“You should have seen your face, oh my God!” He keeps laughing, smiling when he takes a deep breath to try to stop. “Shit, Eds, I was gonna be such a good guest and make you breakfast, or maybe lunch. Brunch!” Richie says, raising his eyebrows like he just realized what the word stands for. “But I was just finishing making coffee when I heard the water running. You should be sleeping!”

“It’s almost 1 p.m. How the hell did you expect me to be sleeping?”

“‘Cause you need your beauty sleep, baby,” Richie says, moving to hold Eddie’s face with his hand before he leans in, kissing his lips.

Richie moves again to get his mug of coffee and drink. Eddie stays where he is, thinking about what just happened. So, baby? Is him baby now? Along with Eds and Eddie Spaghetti and every other awful nickname? Should Eddie call Richie baby too? Does that mean they’re…?

“You’re blushing,” Eddie hears a whisper in his ear and he feels a kiss on his cheek, and when he turns his head around he can see Richie’s soft smile and Richie’s hands pressing the other mug into his. “Drink. You like coffee, or else you wouldn’t have it in your kitchen.”

Eddie looks at his mug and drinks, expecting to find a strong and bitter coffee taste. It’s sweet, though, and Eddie frowns when he drinks a bit more, trying to taste everything Richie has put in there. There’s milk, of course, and sugar, but there’s something else that Eddie can’t put his fingers on.

“What did you put in here?” He asks, looking at Richie with a questioning smile. He just can’t help smiling, mostly because Richie looks ridiculous but also because, well… he made him fucking coffee.

“Whipped cream and caramel syrup. Do you like it?”

“Uh, yeah… But I don’t have whipped cream and caramel syrup.”

“No, but the store down the street did,” Richie smiles and lets out a short laugh when Eddie opens his eyes wide, shocked. “What? I wanted to cook something for you but I didn’t want to snoop around your things. I told you I’m a nice—“

Eddie risks dropping the mugs and making a mess so he hopes Richie fucking appreciate what he’s doing, He needs to stand on his tiptoes and yank Richie’s (Eddie’s) t-shirt down so they can properly kiss. Richie laughs into Eddie’s mouth, and he feels his mug being taken away before Richie wraps both of his arms around him, holding him closer and kissing him better.

“Yours tastes bitter,” Eddie breathes out, swallowing and keeping his lips as close as he can to Richie’s.

“Mine’s bitter. Like my _soul_ ,” Richie laughs, walking and making Eddie walk backward until his legs hit the bed.

“You wouldn’t be bitter even if you tried to,” Eddie replies with a smug smile even when Richie pushes him down to the bed and gets on top of him. “You’re just a big, goofy, marshmallow.” He says, smiling wider when he sees Richie’s scandalized face. “Also, you look ridiculous,” he giggles like a teenager.

“Don’t you like my crop top?” Richie pouts, swaying like he’s dancing, making Eddie burst into laughter before he leans down and kisses Eddie’s lips again.

“I don’t,” Eddie frowns, and just like that he grabs the hem of Richie’s shirt and pulls it off his head. Richie looks at him when Eddie throws the shirt away, raising a questioning eyebrow. Eddie swallows and blushes hard, but that doesn’t make him stop. He puts his hands on Richie’s chest and looks back at him. “Better,” he says. He wanted to say something more elaborated but since he’s almost shaking already, he won’t complain.

For once, though, Richie doesn’t say anything back. It’s like he’s forgotten how to use words or maybe he’s just focusing on more important things, like running his mouth up Eddie’s neck and leave a trail of kisses and bites. Eddie’s hands slide around Richie’s neck and dow to his back, and he holds himself there when the kissing gets heated up.

He doesn’t even notice when he opens his legs, letting Richie fit between them like they’re puzzle pieces, but he wants him there, he wants Richie as close to him as he can while they’re both still wearing clothes. And then Richie talks against Eddie’s skin. “Take this off,” pushing his hands under Eddie’s shirt, and Eddie quickly understands wearing clothes is overrated.

The kisses they share are so hungry they start getting violent, the need and the want running so high they’re marking each other and hurting each other just because how much they want to get under the other’s skin. They’re painfully hard, or at least Eddie is painfully hard, but judging the way Richie groans and moans and move desperately against him, clothed cocks pressing together, Eddie is pretty sure he’s not far from that. Maybe Richie is not _painfully_ hard, but he’s hard. He’s rock hard. 

Eddie is the first who pushes his hands under Richie’s underwear, digging his fingers into Richie’s butt cheeks and pressing him closer, and he can feel the heat of Richie’s skin under the clothes, he can feel wet spots on both of their boxer briefs. He’s never hated a piece of fabric so much in his entire life.

“ _Eddie,_ ” Richie moans when he bites Eddie’s bottom lip, hard. And he kisses again, kisses and kisses, on his lips, down his neck, up his ear, and then his voice again. “Eddie, I want to fuck you so bad.”

The fact that Eddie doesn’t come right there is proof enough of miracles existing.

 

*

 

“Honestly, Eddie, I’m happy for you,” Stan deadpans, looking at Eddie straight in the eye. “And I’m happy to hear how hot Richie looks in his glasses, and how, surprisingly, you have so much in common, and how you’ve spent the last few weeks fucking like rabbits. But, unlike _other people_ , I do intend to pass this class, you know? So, _please._ ”

Stan is an angel and Eddie doesn’t deserve him. A cranky and obsessive-compulsive angel, but an angel after all. They’re studying for their mid-term exams at the library or, according to Stan, he is studying, Eddie is just talking his ear off about his _boyfriend_. He uses the word boyfriend just because it makes Eddie cringe and shut up. They’re not boyfriends, he and Richie. They just… They have… It’s not easy to explain, because…

“I don’t _care,_ ” Stan rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t matter, Eddie. Nobody cares how you call it, and you shouldn’t either. Stop brooding over it.”

That’s easy to say when you’re not an anxious paranoid prone to panic attacks. Contrary to what anyone would think hearing Stan complaining about it, Eddie doesn’t talk about his sex life and his relationship with Richie all the time, or he does but not in that way. Eddie does talk about how good sex is or how much he laughed last evening with Richie or how he never thought Richie was such a good cook. But he does because he’s worried. He’s worried he’s getting too involved with someone he won’t ever see again as soon as the scholar year ends, and Richie being funny and nice and staying mostly every night at home and eating him out for almost 40 minutes (40 minutes, Jesus Christ, Eddie thought he was going to die. He could swear he felt his melted brain dripping down his ears) and cooking him delicious meals in the morning is not helping!

Ben, Beverly’s boyfriend, has started to join them at the library and Eddie suspects it’s one of Stan’s tactics to make him stop talking about it. They’ve hung out together a couple of times now, all of them, and even if Eddie likes Ben he’s still not familiar with him enough to talk about rimming in front of him. However, Ben is not here today, it was Beverly’s free day and they’re alone together somewhere. It doesn’t matter. The point is he’s not here, and Eddie needs to take this opportunity.

“I can’t stop, Stan. You don’t understand. I can’t fall for him or I’ll be permanently fucked, and not in the good way. In a few months I’ll be gone and… Look, I know you and me will keep being friends,” he says, ignoring Stan’s doubting face. “I don’t need to touch you to be your friend. I barely touch you now, and that’s okay. I’ll bother you via phone.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that…”

“But it’s not the same with someone I’m sharing my skin every fucking day! And then he’s also nice, so nice to me. It’s not just sex, I wish it was just sex, but we also talk about deep shit and we… fucking fall asleep together watching movies. And I laugh at his jokes! His jokes, Stan!!” Eddie opens his eyes wide because that’s a big fucking red alarm. Richie’s jokes are _bad._ “I look at him and I see him smiling and always in a good mood and shining. It’s like he’s the sun and I’m…”

“The moon?” Stan asks in a monotone, probably bored out of his mind.

“ _The moon?_ What kind of bullshit metaphor is that? I wish I was the fucking moon, always away at a safe distance from that moron!” Eddie snaps, exasperated. “I’m fucking Icarus! Willingly ready _to die!_ ”

Stan laughs, and Eddie guesses he’d find it funny too if he wasn’t the one living it. So he just sighs and waits for Stan to go back to his usual poker face.

“So what do you want?” Stan finally asks, and he really looks like he wants to help, probably because that way Eddie will let him study in peace. “Do you want me to help you break up with him or something?”

“No! I… I mean, I don’t. Like, we don’t even…” Eddie rubs his face and sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to do anything about it. I just want to complain and hope for the best.”

Stan shakes his head, closing his book and looking at Eddie.

“Are relationships always this complicated?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for Eddie to answer. “Hey. Let’s go get some drinks. Enough study for today.”

Eddie wants to ask Stan if he’s never been in a relationship before, but he also wants to get out of the library, so he just watches Stan pick up his things and put them in his bag. Eddie realizes he’s just taken out a notebook that is not even open. Maybe he should listen to Stan and study a little, too.

They end up in a Starbucks. Eddie has been craving milkshakes for a while, but he hasn’t been able to find any place to get one like the ones back home, so he asks for a caramel frappuccino while Stan orders a hot chocolate. They talk about it for a while, about Richie and about Eddie’s mess, but then Eddie decides Stan is being too much of a good friend, so he starts listening to him instead, asking him. At first it’s just family and college, but then…

“You know, Bill is coming to visit this Easter. He’ll stay for almost a week,” he says, looking at his chocolate. “I thought we all can hang out together. Like, us, you and Mike, and you can bring Richie too, and maybe Bev and Ben can come too.”

“If we convince Mike to bring a girl along, we can have a…” he takes a second to think, “quadruple date,” Eddie laughs, and maybe spending too much time with Richie has affected his smoothness, because Stan raises an eyebrow and looks at him like Eddie is the most obvious thing on the surface of the earth.

“Bill and I are not together,” Stan says, shaking his head and bringing his chocolate mug to his lips. Eddie just keeps looking at him. He knows if he wants Stan to talk, he can’t ask any questions. He wants Stan to feel comfortable enough to tell him things just if he wants to. Eddie wants to be as good friend as Stan is being for him. And it seems to work, or maybe Stan just feels annoyed by Eddie’s look, but he finally rolls his eyes and sighs. “Look, it’s not like that, okay? He loves me. He… He’s said it a couple times. And I do love him too. But… It can’t happen.”

“What? Why??” Eddie frowns. Of all things, this was the last he was expecting. Maybe Stan denying his feelings or he saying he didn’t stand a chance, but this? This is ridiculous. “Is it because of some… religious issue or something?”

“What? No!” Stan laughs. He genuinely laughs, like what Eddie said was so funny. “No, that’s stupid. Me being Jewish doesn’t have anything to do with it. In fact, my parents know Bill. He’s stayed at home more times than I can count. They love him.” Stan looks away, a soft and bitter smile spreading on his face. “It’s me, Eddie. I’m not… I can’t give him what he wants.”

“That’s so…” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “What, is he into some hardcore BDSM stuff?” Eddie jokes and it makes Stan laugh too.

“You’re kinda close,” Stan answers and Eddie opens his eyes. Is he? Stan keeps looking away and Eddie just waits for him to say something else. “I… have a little problem with sex. Well, not with sex. I’m okay with sex, I guess.” Eddie would like to meet Stan’s eyes, but Stan won’t look at him and maybe he feels safer that way. He can’t hold Stan’s hand either because both of them are wrapped around his chocolate mug. So Eddie just keeps waiting, gives Stan time and space. “I’m ace. So, uh. I don’t… find him sexually attractive. I don’t find anyone sexually attractive, that’s…” Stan chuckles, shaking his head, “that’s how it works. So, yeah.”

Eddie keeps looking at Stan, waiting for him to turn his head and finally look back at Eddie, but that doesn’t happen. So Eddie just decides he’ll talk no matter if Stan is looking at him or not.

“And why is that a problem?” Eddie asks, and that gets Stan to look at him again, surprised, like he didn’t expect that question. “I mean, you love him, he loves you, who cares if you don’t think he’s hot?”

“Yeah? Would you like it if Richie didn’t find you hot?” Stan quickly asks, and Eddie wants to say it’s different because Richie does find other people hot, and also he doesn’t love Richie, but Stan keeps talking. “No, just think about it. Would you really want to be with someone who doesn’t _want_ you, who doesn’t get horny thinking of you, who doesn’t get horny at all! And sex is okay, I’m cool with having sex, but I would never need to, I don’t… People don’t turn me on. I don’t even know what the fuck getting turned on really means. Who the fuck would want that?”

Eddie stares at Stan. He’s never seen him like this, so heated up. Stan’s neck and cheeks are red, his breathing is getting hectic, his chest rising up and down, and his eyes… Fuck, and Eddie thought he had a problem.

“I would, you know?” Eddie says, and he probably uses a harsher tone than he intended to, but he’s getting mad. Not at Stan, he’s not mad at Stan, he’s mad at… at the world! He’s mad at anything that had lead Stan to think he’s not worth a relationship with anyone he wants to. “I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I wish I had that! The fuck do I care about getting horny or sex if I have someone who loves me? Really loves me. Like… fucking healthy love, do you know how important that is, Stanley?” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “You are such a good person. Like, genuinely good, Stan. I’m fucking lucky you are my friend, so… Shit, anyone would be so lucky to have your love, man. Sex or not. I promise you, Stan, you’re worth it.”

Stan doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and, for a moment, Eddie is afraid he’s said too much, he’s overstepped and talked about something he shouldn’t have gotten his nose into. Then Stan smiles, one of those smiles of him Eddie really loves because they light Stan’s face. He smiles and shakes his head, and he’s not even fully opening his arms when Eddie is already hugging him close and tight.

“Trashmouth Tozier doesn’t deserve you,” Stan says.

“I know,” Eddie replies, and they both laugh.

 

*

 

Things change a little between Stan and Eddie after that conversation. It’s not what Stan does but what Eddie feels, and he feels Stan closer, like now Stan can trust Eddie in a way he didn’t before. Maybe Eddie is imagining things but he does feel it, and he feels good. Eddie can say Stan is probably the first true friend he’s ever had in his life.

They talk about Bill a lot more now, mostly because now Eddie feels comfortable asking and he thinks it’s fair to help Stan too when he talks non-stop about Richie all the time. He learns more things about Bill, he even joins Stan once when they face time. Bill is not only cute but he’s also really sweet. He’s a quiet guy, he speaks softly, never rushing the words. He stutters too, and Eddie thought that would make him anxious since he’s not the most patient person, but it doesn’t. Talking to Bill is soothing and Eddie can see why Stan likes the guy so much.

Since his friendship with Stan has become so close, Eddie does celebrate Hanukkah with Stan and his family. He feels so welcomed it makes him a little envious, envious of what Stan has. Eddie knows he can find good people like Stan, like Richie, he knows he can find people who love him the way love should be, but he also knows he would never have the feeling of belonging to a loving family. It makes him think of his mom and how they’ve barely talked since he came to Ireland.

At first she refused to pick up the phone, and Eddie knew she was trying to make him feel guilty. Finally she gave up, but she only talked to him to say how lonely she felt, how something happened and he wasn’t there, how much she needed him while he was away being a selfish son. He just stopped calling her, making up excuses, saying he was just too busy. He made himself busy, just not to give in to the little part of himself whispering in his ear his mom was right. That’s probably the reason why, once Richie started coming home, Eddie always asked him if he wanted to spend the night. It wasn’t just about sleeping together, it was that Richie being there made Eddie forget.

“You know, I see your point…” Richie says, looking up at Eddie. They’re in Eddie’s bedroom, Eddie is sitting on the edge of the bed and Richie is sitting on the floor, his back against the bed between Eddie’s legs. Eddie is braiding his hair, just because he can. “But I don’t think the way you do.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie asks, tugging a little at Richie’s hair so he looks down and Eddie can keep braiding his hair. He’s not very good at it, but he guesses it’s okay since it’s his first time.

“I mean for me it doesn’t matter if I didn’t or don’t get love from my family,” Richie says, and then he makes a thinking noise. “Well, I do. Like, it sucks and all that, but at the same time I think I can’t need something I’ve never had. Would it be cool if I had awesome parents? Sure, but I think it’s also pretty cool I have awesome friends. And they chose me, you know? Like, parents can’t choose their kids and kids can’t choose their parents. Family love each other because that’s what they’re supposed to do, but think about this, if your mom wasn’t your mom, if she was a random woman, would you love her? Would you like her?”

“You already know the answer,” Eddie says. He wouldn’t. That’s the answers. He wouldn’t love his mom if she wasn’t his mom, but still he can’t say it out loud without feeling like an awful son.

“What I’m trying to say is it’s cool if you happen to have a family like Stan’s. A family where you get along with everybody. I’m sure if Stan’s parents weren’t his parents, he’d still like them. But it’s not the end of the world if you have shitty parents. You don’t choose them, they don’t choose you. I’d be more worried if I had shitty friends, because then I am the problem, because I chose them. But I have awesome friends who love me, and they love me for me, not because they’re supposed to.”

“Friends like Beverly?” Eddie asks, smiling and using a hair tie to fasten the end of the braid. It’s not the best braid in the world, but Eddie is pretty proud of it. “She’s pretty cool.”

“She’s the best,” Richie answers, turning around now that Eddie has finished, looking at him. He’s wearing his glasses today. Eddie has noticed Richie has been wearing his glasses more and more often since he said they looked good on him. Some locks of hair have escaped the braid and they fall here and there on Richie’s face. He looks fucking gorgeous and Eddie licks his lips unconsciously, biting his bottom lip. “She’s always been around. I would really consider her like my true family, because I know no matter what happens, she’ll always be there for me.”

“That’s great,” Eddie smiles, pushing a lock of hair behind Richie’s ear. “How did you and Beverly became friends?”

“She kicked my ass with a yo-yo and I fell in love with her. Then I realized she was a girl, so we kept it platonic,” Richie laughs and Eddie laughs too because only Richie would have a story like that. “I was like ten or twelve, I remember we had just moved in. And she’s been my friend since then. She really is like family.”

“I’m happy you found her,” Eddie says with a soft smile, but wrinkles his nose, chuckling and looking away when something else comes to his mind. “I’ve never had that either, you know? That kind of friendship. So I can’t relate. Maybe that’s why we think differently.”

“What about Stan? He seems a really good friend. Also, what about me, huh??” Richie frowns, faking getting angry and grabbing Eddie by his hips, pulling at him to make him fall off the bed and right on top of Richie. Eddie screams and complains but he also laughs when crashes against Richie and they both end up on the floor.

“Asshole. Stan is the best, but I just know him for a few months, the same with you. Also…” Eddie leans down, looking at Richie and lowering his voice, trying to hold back a smile when he whispers in Richie’s ear. “I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable thinking of you as family, you know?” He says, rolling his hips against Richie’s.

“Well, baby, you should tell your mom that,” Richie replies and Eddie automatically punches him when Richie starts laughing.

“Dude! Really?? How can you be so disgusting??” Eddie complains but Richie doesn’t stop laughing, he just looks at Eddie like he’s having the time of his life.

“Your mom likes me disgus—HMMM!!“ Richie fights when Eddie covers his mouth with a hand, but even then he doesn’t stop laughing. Instead of that, he moves and squirms and tries to throw Eddie off him. Eddie feels like he’s riding a fucking mechanical bull, only mechanical bulls don’t _lick your hand!_

“Richie! God!” Eddie screams grossed out, wiping Richie’s spit off his hand on Richie’s face and laughing. Only then Richie grabs his wrist, yanking him down and holding his neck to lick Eddie’s cheek up to his fucking _eye_. “So grooossss,” Eddie cries out and tries to wipe his cheek with the hem of his sleeve but Richie holds both of his wrists now, moving to exchange positions and getting on top of Eddie. He can’t stop laughing while he fights for release, moving his head when Richie tries to lick him again. “You’re like a fucking dog!”

“Oh, yeah? Dogs bite too,” Richie says, and the next thing Eddie knows is Richie’s mouth opening on his neck, Richie’s teeth against his skin. Suddenly Eddie doesn’t feel like laughing anymore.

He stops fighting. In fact, he moves his head to make room for Richie’s kisses and bites, and when Richie moves down and releases Eddie’s wrists, he just brings his hands to Richie’s hair, fisting it when Richie pushes his shirt up to bite under his belly button. Eddie shivers when Richie lowers his lips a little more, opening them against the fabric of Eddie’s jeans, making him feel the warmth of his breath.

“Richie…” Eddie calls him when he feels Richie’s fingers working his jeans open. They’re still lying on the floor and, as much as Eddie hates to interrupt this, he would very much like to continue it on a comfortable surface like his bed.

Richie seems to read his mind, because he nods and gets up, taking off his shirt before he offers his hand to Eddie, helping him get up too. The second Eddie gets on his feet Richie pushes him down again, this time on the bed, crawling on top of him and kissing him. Eddie can feel his heart pumping hard in his chest, loud in his ears, and Richie’s tongue licking into his mouth like fucking fire, so good Eddie melts under Richie’s hands.

“Get your mouth back down there,” Eddie breathes in between kisses, making Richie open up a smirk, raising an eyebrow.

“Down where?” He asks, kissing down Eddie’s jaw, down his neck. “Here?”

“Fucker…” Eddie groans, fisting Richie’s hair again and tugging down. “You know where,” he says, and he licks his lips because he knows that’s not what Richie wants to hear. “I want it on my cock. Your mouth. Your… tongue,” he finally says. He can hear, feel, Richie groaning, so he knows it has worked out.

“Not so gross anymore, huh?” Richie asks, but he doesn’t wait for Eddie’s answers. He just moves down again, opening Eddie’s jeans to push them down along his underwear. The moment he gets his mouth on Eddie, he knows Eddie is not going to talk again anytime soon.

Eddie loves, loves, _fuck_ , loves Richie’s mouth so bad. He wants it everywhere. He wants it running across his body, he wants to feel the heat of his tongue burning his skin, and he would say it ‘now here, now there’ if he could speak at all. He can’t, so he just uses his grip on Richie’s hair to guide him, holding him in place, thrusting into his throat, pulling at him to kiss him hard, pushing him down again.

Richie just takes it. Wherever Eddie wants him, Richie goes, and Richie does. He kisses and bites and licks and sucks, using his hands to hold Eddie down when he can’t control his hips, digging his fingers into Eddie’s thighs to open up his legs, then pushing them deep inside Eddie’s body.

“Come on,” Eddie moans, pulling Richie up to crash their mouths together in a rough kiss. “Stop teasing.”

“Who’s teasing?” Richie laughs, kissing down Eddie’s neck and twisting his fingers, three of them, _fuck_ , inside Eddie. “I’m just doing what you want. You’re in charge here,” he mocks, or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he does really think Eddie is in charge.

In that case…

Eddie moves, pushing Richie off him and onto his back, getting on top and biting down Richie’s mouth while he opens up Richie’s pants. He groans when he holds Richie hot in his hand. He shifts, moves to hold both of them together, rubbing, making Richie moan and shiver and beg _please, Eds, please_. Eddie reaches out with his free hand, opening the drawer to get what he needs.

“Ride me,” Richie whispers into Eddie’s mouth, looking into his eyes. Eddie didn’t need the encouragement, but he sure as fuck enjoys it.

He’s become an expert rolling the condom down Richie’s cock, and Richie’s holds Eddie’s hips as he lowers himself down too, not to keep him in place, but because he looks like he could fall if he didn’t hold himself on to Eddie’s body. And so Eddie laughs, putting his hands over Richie’s, leaning down to kiss him.

“You don’t need to hold on to me. You’re not gonna fall,” he whispers, kissing the smile that opens on Richie’s face.

“I think I am,” Richie laughs, and Eddie does too until he understands. Until he knows Richie is not joking, until Richie looks at him and swallows and touches his face. So Eddie kisses him. He just kisses him feeling his heart pounding harder, faster, moving his body and riding Richie the best he can.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie whispers, his forehead pressed to Richie’s, breathing into each other. Richie tightens his grip on Eddie’s hips when Eddie moves faster. “I’ve got you. If you fall… I’ve got you.”

“You do,” Richie nods, he nods frantic and thrusts into Eddie too, joining the pace, kissing him again when the sweat gathering on their skin make their bodies slick. “You’ve got me.”

They don’t talk again after that, their mouths never breaking apart from each other, the heat of their bodies mixing together, the skin against skin making them feel like one, just one, one body, one soul. Eddie just closes his eyes and lets himself go, not wanting to think about what that means, what Richie said means, what he feels means.

They fall, _fall_ , exhausted, one next to the other, still touching, not wanting to break what has formed between them, not yet at least. It’s hard to breathe, but there are smiles on their faces when they look at each other. Richie’s braid is all messed up and he’s not wearing glasses now (Eddie didn’t notice when he took them off) but he’s still gorgeous. Right now he’s the most beautiful being on the planet in Eddie’s eyes.

“You sure you don’t see me as family?” Richie suddenly says, removing the condom and tying it off, holding it in front of Eddie’s face. “If I hadn’t worn this I would have bred you good. Our kids would be so cute.”

“Richie! Ew! Just… _Ew_ ,” Eddie shakes his head, covering his face with his hands, but he can’t help laughing too. “There’s a reason I make you wear that, you know? Maybe I don’t want you to be my baby daddy,” Eddie jokes too, looking at Richie through the corner of his eye.

“Hey! You hurt me!” Richie frowns and pouts, “I wouldn’t be just your baby daddy. I’d be a cool dad. I’d be _the_ cool dad. You’d be the boring dad. Right, babies?” Richie asks at the condom. Eddie blinks.

“You’re literally talking to a scumbag.”

“Don’t insult our children! You swallowed the last ones!”

Eddie just loses it, cracking up laughing and covering his face again. He tries to reach the condom to throw it away, but Richie’s arm is longer and the asshole holds it up high. They fight and laugh and Eddie finally slaps Richie’s hand to make him drop the goddamned condom to the floor.

“Your children are dead,” Eddie sentences with a solemn face. Richie whines.

“Genocide,” he pouts, holding Eddie’s face and kissing him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make more,” Eddie talks against Richie’s mouth. Richie just smiles, kissing Eddie one last time before he moves to get up the bed.

“Gonna take a shower, okay?” He says, picking their clothes up the floor, the condom too, throwing it in the trashcan and putting the clothes in the laundry basket, both of their clothes. They haven’t really talked about it, about how some of Richie’s clothes share space in Eddie’s drawers with his own, about how Richie spends more time in Eddie’s house than at his parents. Eddie doesn’t care. It just happened, and they both are comfortable with it. It doesn’t really mean anything. “Hey, Eds,” Richie calls him, leaning on the doorframe. Eddie rolls his eyes at the nickname but he doesn’t complain, he knows it doesn’t work anyway. “I was serious. I mean, you know, about… Like, you can trust me. I know it doesn’t matter if I say it and you don’t feel it, but I’ll say it anyway. You can trust me. And I’ll always be there for you if you need me. I promise.”

Eddie just looks at him. He wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting a joke or maybe something about his clothes or literally anything else except for that. He feels his chest tightening and his heart pumping hard again, a rush of blood flushing Eddie’s cheeks and ears. Richie smiles, moving back to the bathroom. Eddie just stays there, looking at the bathroom door and hearing the water falling, a million butterflies fluttering inside his belly.

Shit.

Oh, God.

 

_To the guy at the bus stop: fuck you._

 

 

 


	7. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here I am again! I'm sorry I disappeared like that, my life became a mess and I don't even know how I got out of it alive, lol. I lost three family members and discovered my partner had been cheating on me since the beginning of the relationship (three fucking years, jesus), all of this in the course of four months. So I needed a break. And I got it. I'm so much better now, I'm becoming a new person and I haven't been this happy in a long time. I know you guys don't give a fuck lol but I thought I owed you an explanation. Anyway, here's the chapter, and there's only one left! So I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did writing it.
> 
> Lots of love. R-

 

 

 

Eddie is not falling for Richie.

Eddie Kaspbrak is not falling for Richie Tozier.

Eddie Kaspbrak is not a fucking cliché and he’s not falling in love with a weirdo he met on his exchange student year who also happens to be _Trashmouth Tozier._

He’s NOT.

“Dude, just admit it. You’re fucked,” Mike says. Stan twists his mouth. Eddie groans and rubs his face.

“I’m not. There’s still time. I can change it. I can… reverse it.” He’s trying really hard to believe his own words, but Mike’s and Stan’s faces are not helping _at all_.

“Didn’t you buy a toothbrush for him two days ago? Not a spare toothbrush. His toothbrush. The one I bet is now sitting near yours in your bathroom.” Stan says. Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He tries to remember the reasons why he loves his friends.

“That doesn’t mean— That’s different. Okay? That. It has an explanation.”

“Of course,” Mike nods.

It does. No matter what his friends or other people might think, Richie staying at home most days is not a big deal. Eddie likes the company. After all, he’s not used to living alone. It’s true Eddie doesn’t like to share space with most people but Richie is not like the rest, or he’s not like most, or at least he’s not like Eddie thought he would be.

Just looking at Richie and hearing what Stan and Mike said about the guy, Eddie thought Richie would be the kind of person who is a complete mess, and Eddie doesn’t need extreme tidiness like Stan, but he likes order. Richie surprised him, but Eddie is kind of getting used to being surprised by Richie.

Thinking about it, it makes sense. Richie never had someone to clean after him, so he had to learn how to clean things himself (literally and metaphorically). If he wanted something, he had to get it himself. To Eddie it was almost unbelievable at first, thinking about Richie’s parents being like that. Being so neglectful. Not according to Richie, though.

“It’s not like they treat me bad, you know?” He said once while he was cooking dinner for both of them. Eddie has asked how he could cook so well and Richie answered he had been cooking since he was twelve. Eddie was shocked. “They’re more like roommates. My mom used to cook for me too at first, but if I complained about not liking what she made, she didn’t force me to eat it, so I could just cook something else myself.”

Eddie knows Richie tries to play it down, he guesses Richie needs to. But Eddie also knows Richie started smoking when he was thirteen just to see if his parents would notice. He knows Richie studied something he didn’t like just to make his parents proud. He knows Richie was still living with his parents because, no matter what he said, he was too scared to leave and realize his parents never cared at all. He was too scared of living alone and not receiving a phone call from them, they never coming to pay a visit. He was too scared of being forgotten for good.

“I only smoke when I’m nervous or worried,” Richie said once when Eddie asked please not to smoke inside the house. Eddie asked then why he used to smoke every morning at the bus stop, and that’s when Richie told him. He didn’t know why but leaving home always made him feel anxious. “Every time I walk out the door I wonder if it will be the last, if my parents will get tired and kick me out or if I’ll get tired and just leave to never see them again. And I know I’ll never see them again once I do it.”

Richie loves his parents. He does, no matter how much he tries not to. And if staying at Eddie’s makes him feel less lonely or makes him forget his own worries for a minute, Eddie is not going to complain. Eddie is glad he can be there for Richie the same way Richie is being there for him. And they get along extremely well living together, so what the hell. Eddie is not going to tell Richie to stop coming just because of how things are supposed to be. Like Richie once said, it’s not about what you’re supposed to do but about what you choose to do. They choose each other.

“Okay,” Eddie close his eyes and sighs. “I am. I’m fucked.”

 

*

 

Bill Denbrough is coming to visit and Eddie is excited. Sometimes he even thinks he’s more excited than Stan (he knows that’s not true, but Eddie really envies how Stan can always be so collected). He’s heard about the guy so much he can’t wait to meet him and see in real life the person who has stolen his best friend’s heart. 

Talking to Bill through Skype is nothing like talking to him in real life. They all go to the airport, Mike, Stan, and Eddie himself. Mike drives because Stan is too shaky (Eddie can’t believe it either) to do anything. When Bill finally arrives Eddie is a little bit disappointed Stan and him didn’t hug like in one of those cheesy movies, but then Eddie understood that wouldn’t be like Stan or Bill at all.

He also discovers Bill is a natural born leader. Eddie never thought leaders could be nice and calm, he always expected leaders to make people anxious, but Bill is totally the opposite and maybe that’s the reason he’s so good at guiding people. Richie, Bev, and Ben think the same when they join them a day later and Bill just starts organizing things like he had been doing it forever. It’s just been hours but Eddie is sure he could be best friends with Bill Denbrough, and that makes him happy. He knew Stan would have good taste in people anyway.

“He said he’s thinking about staying,” Stan texts Eddie the second night, when Eddie is already in bed and one of his arms is trapped under Richie’s head. “Not this time, but probably by the end of the year. My dad always said he had a job for Bill at the company if he ever wanted it, and Bill is thinking about taking it.”

“That’s awesome, man,” Eddie texts back, and he smiles when Stan tells him he doesn’t think he can bear Bill leaving him over and over again anymore, so he’s thinking about telling Bill how he feels. Eddie feels happy for his friends, but he can’t help the twisting feeling in his stomach when he thinks about how he’ll have to leave himself too, and not to come back.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving so soon, though,” Stan says and Eddie can almost see his face. “Karma is a bitch, man. It’s like, if I get a friend to stay, I have to see another one leave.”

“Better me than Bill, don’t you think?” Eddie tries to joke, but Stan doesn’t seem to get it. Eddie blames the texting and how you can’t read someone’s joking tone.

“I want Bill here, but I’m gonna miss you too, you know? You’re my best friend, Eddie. And I know I’m not the only one who’s gonna miss you.”

Eddie looks down at Richie, sleeping with his body almost all the way thrown over Eddie’s, holding him close using his arm and leg. He kisses Richie’s forehead and sighs. He really hopes Stan is not right.

He’s in love with Richie.

He’s madly, stupidly, incredibly in love with Richie. 

Eddie doesn’t even know how it happened, how he started almost hating the guy to end up kissing his forehead while he sleeps in his bed. He doesn’t think he’s ever loved anyone like that before and that makes him furious! He didn’t ask for this, he just wanted a little freedom, to have a little fun in a foreign country before coming back to his pretty cell at home, and meeting Richie fucked all that up.

The only thing that can save him is Richie not feeling the same.

He’s not going to lie, he knows Richie likes him a lot, he knows Richie cares about him, and he knows he’s becoming someone important in Richie’s life. But that doesn’t mean Richie is in love. Knowing him like Eddie knows him, he’s already aware Richie craves affection and tries to keep people he cares about as close as possible. He keeps Beverly as close as possible, and it’s true Richie jokes about being in love with Beverly until he found out she was a girl, but that’s just Richie being Richie, and when it comes to reality, Beverly has an amazing relationship with Ben and Richie is super happy for her. Richie loves his friends and Eddie is sure Richie feels some kind of affection for him, maybe even love in a lower scale than how he loves Beverly, but that doesn’t mean Richie is in love with him. It doesn’t mean Richie wants them to be more than just friends with some sex on the side.

At least that’s what Eddie hopes, because he only needs one more reason to drop off school, leave it all behind and start a new life as a hobo in Ireland. Stan laughs at him when Eddie tells him this, and jokes about how he’d at least receive better health care here than in America. Stan thinks he’s so funny.

 

*

 

They’re hanging out at the park while they wait for the time to go to the movies. They have tickets to watch some foreign film Ben was eager to see, and then they will go to the Mad Sweeney because both Richie’s and Mike’s bands play tonight, Beverly asked the night free and, also, it’s Bill last day in Ireland. At least for now.

Stan will tell Bill how he feels tonight, just because he didn’t find the courage to do it sooner and he doesn’t want to be such a cliché and do it at the airport tomorrow morning. For now, though, they’re just lying on the grass and laughing at nothing. It’s the first time Eddie really understands Richie when he calls his friends his family. It does feel like a family should.

Both Eddie and Stan are sharing a blanket Stan has brought because they both hate getting their clothes dirty but Stan is absolutely more foresighted than Eddie. Bill is sitting by Stan's side, and in front of them is Ben and Mike. Beverly and Richie are lying down, Beverly using Ben's legs as a pillow and Richie doing the same with Eddie's. Eddie can't help tangling his fingers on Richie's curls, scratching his head like a pet. Sometimes Richie purrs and looks up with a huge dumb smile.

"Y-you guys been p-playing for a long time?" Bill asks when the conversation shifts to where they're going tonight. Bill thinks it's cool there are artists among Stan's friends, he himself likes to write when he has enough time, but he never thought about writing songs, just stories.

"I've always been into music. My dad used to have a band too, I've grown up listening to jazz at home," Mike says. Eddie didn't know that about Mike's dad, but now it makes sense. It shows Mike has music in his soul.

"I just like to make noise," Richie adds, and everybody laughs. "I guess I learned how to play just so I could get my parents and neighbors mad. The band just happened, and now I get to make people happy instead. Both my parents and neighbors too, since I don't play in my room anymore."

"Shut up, man, you guys are good," Mike says, punching Richie's leg.

"At l-least good enough t-to get yourself a g-groupie," Bill jokes, and they all laugh again except for Eddie, who wrinkles his nose when Bill points his head at him.

"No way in hell he's a groupie," Richie laughs, shaking his head. "Eds doesn't like my music. And he hates me singing," he jokes, looking at Eddie. It's not true, not completely at least. He does hate Richie's singing but he likes the music. Their songs are cool and they're good at playing live. Eddie is not going to correct him, though.

“You know I also hate it when you call me Eds, right?” Eddie replies, wrinkling his nose and giving Richie a dirty look.

“Oh, _Eds_ , do you really not know the difference between hate and love? Is it American educational system _that_ bad?” Richie says back, and everybody laughs while Eddie gets so red he can feel the heat creeping up his neck to his ears.

He knows Richie is just joking but Eddie can't help the blush staying decorating his cheeks even hours after they leave the park.

They get to the Mad Sweeney sooner than usual because Mike and Richie need to get everything ready for the show. They disappear with the rest of their bands and Eddie and the guys stay at a table having a drink and just talking about nothing. Eddie doesn't know everybody yet but he can see some familiar faces around. It's mostly Beverly who runs the conversations, orders the drinks and introduces some people to them. He feels comfortable, though. It's probably the first time he's felt this comfortable surrounded by so many people. Maybe because he feels safe having his friends around.

He's having fun. He's having so much fun he doesn't even notice when Mike's band starts playing. It's Stan the one who tells him and Eddie thanks him because he absolutely loves their music. The same happens when Richie comes to the stage, only then it's Bill who asks.

“Oh, is that R-Richie’s band? What’s t-their name again?” He says, and Eddie makes a face because he wasn’t paying too much of attention but also, he has no idea. He should probably have learned the name of Richie’s band, maybe the name of his bandmates too. 

"Uh… Something about a plant? I'm not sure," Eddie answers, and the rest of the guys laugh.

"Y-You definitely are n-not a groupie."

 

*

 

When Bill leaves it's the first time Eddie sees Stan crying. Not at the airport or when Bill tells them he'll be back soon, when that happens Stan is smiling big, hugging Bill close and telling him he can't wait for him to be back. It's when they're driving back when Eddie notices a few tears rolling down Stan's cheeks.

Eddie doesn't say anything, he doesn't try to comfort Stan with words. He just waits until they're out of the car to walk to Stan and hug him as tight as he can. Stan hugs him back, and right then he breaks, crying louder this time. The only thing Stan says is "I'm gonna miss him so much" and Eddie can't help hearing his future self in Stan words.

Maybe that's the reason why he decides to stop pretending he doesn't have feelings for Richie and start actually doing something about it. Something that doesn't make him tear apart his flight ticket back home. Of course, that would be so much easier if Eddie had any idea of how to function like a normal person. He’s sure someone normal would just talk to Richie and explain the situation. Eddie has the skills to do that, what he lacks is will. Also, he's a coward.

That's why, one night, one of those they all get together because both Bev and Richie are free the weekend and they go to pubs and drink and laugh and talk, Eddie is not ready for a conversation regarding his and Richie's relationship. He should, he knows, but he isn't.

“What about you, guys?” Ben asks, and maybe because he’s Ben and Eddie wasn’t expecting that kind of question coming from him, he suddenly doesn’t know what to answer. They're talking about Bill again, about how Stan is always on his phone and Bill calls every day and how they're working hard to make it work long enough until Bill comes back to Dublin.

“Us? What about us?” Eddie asks with a nervous chuckle, shrugging and looking everywhere but at Richie. What about them? Well, that’s exactly what he’s been wondering himself for the last few weeks. Such a pity he doesn’t have the answer yet.

“Well, you know. Since you’re leaving soon and you guys are…” Ben doesn’t finish the sentence and his face looks almost as confused as his voice sounds.

“We’re what?” Richie asks in what sounds too much like a mocking tone for Eddie to like, almost like he’s ready for Ben to say something wrong and laugh about it. They’re what? That’s what Eddie wants to know, but if Richie wants to play this game, Eddie might as well play along.

“Yeah, Ben, we’re what?” He asks, and Ben looks even more confused now.

“Oh, shit, sorry. I really thought you were together, like… You know. Like a couple,” Ben laughs awkwardly, a bit of red spreading across his face. Richie laughs too, so Eddie laughs as well because it seems them being a couple is really funny.

Sure. Of course.

“Who would get a boyfriend during an exchange student year? That’d be so dumb,” Eddie thinks bitterly. Only Ben laughs and nods, and Richie just looks at him for a second before drinking off his beer.

So maybe he meant to just think it but he said it out loud instead.

“Yeah, we’re just friends,” Richie says with a casual shrug, and Eddie tries to play it cool and smile even if he’s feeling his insides crumbling, a deep hole forming inside his stomach.

Ben keeps talking and Richie talks too, making a sign to Bev with two of his fingers over his lips so she looks into the pocket of her jacket and takes out her pack of cigarettes, offering one to Richie. For a moment Eddie’s afraid Richie is going to smoke right there, only he can’t because they’re inside the bar. Richie doesn’t smoke right there, of course, he just puts the cigarette on the top of his right ear and keeps talking like nothing happens. But something happens, and Eddie can’t stop looking at the cigarette.

It’s been so long since he saw Richie smoking cigarettes he almost forgot Richie smoke at all. Of course he knows Richie didn’t quit, he knows it because Richie still smells like smoke in the mornings and sometimes there’s an aftertaste in his mouth when they kiss Eddie has learned not to mind (and even like, but he would never admit this out loud). However, Eddie doesn’t remember the last time he saw a cigarette in Richie’s hands, even less between Richie’s lips.

That’s why, when Richie and Bev excuse themselves and go out for a smoke break, Eddie almost wants to join them just to see it’s real, it’s Richie and it’s those lips he kisses and those fingers he loves all wrapped around nicotine and smoke. At the same time, though… he’s not that sure if he really wants to. Or maybe he does, but he doesn’t know if he should. Maybe now that they’re ‘just friends’ Eddie doesn’t feel confident enough to follow Richie out, or anywhere for that matter.

So Richie and Bev leave, and Eddie stays. He stays with the rest, of course, he’s not alone, but that doesn’t help the way he’s feeling inside. He feels Stan’s eyes on him but he’s too busy burying himself in his own head right now to pay attention. It was all so fast he didn’t even have the proper time to process the information. It just happened, and now he’s here. Alone.

He should be happy.

This is what he wanted, right? He wanted a reason to take his flight home and he got it. And he didn’t even need to do anything himself, Richie did it for him so he could keep being the fucking coward he is. Richie made it easy, like everything he does, so why is Eddie’s head trying to complicate it?

“Hey. You okay?” Stan asks, putting a glass with his favorite cocktail in front of Eddie. That means Stan stood up, went to the bar, asked for the drink, and came back without Eddie noticing. Great.

“Sure. Thanks, man,” Eddie says with probably the worst fake smile ever. He knows Stan’s not buying it but he should at least try. Eddie takes the drinks and chugs it like it’s the strongest vodka, and right there he wonders why the hell doesn’t he drink alcohol.

“You fucked up, huh?” Stan raises an eyebrow, but Eddie just shakes his head. No, he didn’t fuck up. He’s fucked up, but he didn’t fuck up.

“I did what I had to do,” Eddie says, although it’s a bit of a lie because, well, he didn’t really do anything, it was all Richie. But it doesn’t really matter, right? “It’s over. My crush, my… whatever. Me and Richie are friends and now I can go home in peace.”

Or in pieces. Whatever happens first.

“Are you sure, Eddie?” Stan asks, resting his hand on Eddie’s back, a little worry in his eyes. It makes Eddie’s heart melt a little, so this time when he smiles it’s genuine. He really loves his friend. “Okay. If this is what you want…”

It’s not. It’s not what he wants, but it’s what he needs.

 

*

 

We’re just friends.

Just friends.

_Friends._

Eddie really, _really_ thought those words meant they would stop fucking like animals because, maybe he’s not the greatest expert in friendship but he’s not ready to jump Stan’s bones every time he sees him. Of course Eddie knows the term ‘friends with benefits’ exists but that was never specified. Richie said friends. Just friends.

“Fuck. Please.” Getting his hands held up above his head while he’s being kissed, bitten, licked, and teased it’s not something Eddie contemplated within a friendship. But he’s not complaining.

“Please, what?” Richie asks, and there’s already that mocking tone in his voice Eddie absolutely despises because it gets him even more desperate. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” Eddie grunts, trying to move and hating how Richie can pin him down so easily. Hating how much he loves it.

“Yeah, I know,” Richie answers, and there it is, the low chuckle that makes Eddie shiver at the same time he mentally rolls his eyes at himself. “I know. But I want you to tell me.”

Asshole.

“Fuck you,” Eddie huffs, his body moving impatiently, wanting to rub against something, anything, so ready it should be illegal to keep him waiting one second more.

It must be really funny to Richie, though, because he laughs.

“I was under the impression it was the other way around,” he says. So it’s Richie who thinks he’s funny. Okay. Eddie will teach him funny. As soon as he can free himself and get the orgasm he deserves. Oh, yeah, he’s going to teach Richie right.

That thought lasts inside his head about twenty seconds, though. That’s how long Richie takes to lean down and put his lips on Eddie’s neck, his hands traveling down Eddie’s body, getting under him to grab his ass, to spread his cheeks, to rub himself against Eddie in such a dirty way it’s almost taking Eddie right over the edge.

And it’s just a chant of “yes, yes, yes, finally, finally, finally” in Eddie’s head because he can’t even speak anymore the moment Richie gets inside him, painfully slow but so delicious at the same time Eddie can feel himself leaking, trapped in between their bodies.

“So this is what you wanted,” Richie chuckles, kissing below Eddie’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. Eddie tangles his legs around Richie’s back, hugging him closer.

“Shut up,” he demands, closing his eyes and feeling Richie’s lips moving across his neck. And just because he’s feeling generous, he adds: “fuck me.”

That’s all Richie needs to lose every bit of control he showed off until now.

The only thing Eddie needs now is Richie’s mouth. In the middle of the pure bliss that is Richie pounding him like a beast, of his hands and his lips and his tongue and his teeth on Eddie’s body, Eddie misses only one thing to make it absolutely perfect: Richie’s mouth on his.

Not on him. Of course Eddie loves Richie’s mouth on any part of his body, but kissing Richie is something that can make anything go from good to just awesome. Not just sex. Yeah, Richie’s kisses are amazing that way.

So Eddie does what he needs to do. He tangles his fingers on Richie’s hair, fists it and pulls up, missing Richie’s tongue when it gets away from his body but knowing he’s going to like it so much better when it’s licking his own.

“Come here,” Eddie whispers, not because he wants to sound sexy, but because that’s the only way his voice can come out right now. And Richie goes, of course. He goes and kisses Eddie’s chin, Eddie’s jawline, Eddie’s cheek. He bites Eddie’s bottom lip and pulls gently. “Come on!” Eddie gets impatient, and Richie smiles against his lips right before he opens both of their mouths and licks into Eddie’s.

Eddie would literally _thank_ him if it wasn’t because his mouth is busy right now and that’s how he intends to keep it as long as possible. Jesus, he doesn’t even know what is it that gets him so worked up. Kissing Richie boosts him up so much he’s sure he could probably come just like that, just kissing, if he focused hard enough. There’s something in Richie’s mouth, something that got him hooked up that first time, that Eddie has become addicted to.

“I love your mouth,” Eddie breathes out. And he thinks it again once they’re done, once they’re sticky and tired and almost dead, lying on the mattress. And with that thought Eddie moves to kiss Richie again, only Richie moves faster, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“I’m going out for a smoke, ‘kay?” Richie says, and Eddie needs to blink twice to actually understand.

“What? Now?” Eddie frowns, moving to sit up too, almost pouting when Richie actually moves and start putting on his jeans. “Wait! You’re gonna leave already?” He asks, and he realizes he sounds desperate not because of the tone of his voice but because of how fast his heart is beating now.

“I’m not leaving yet,” Richie laughs, shaking his head but not really looking at Eddie, looking for his t-shirt. “I’ll just go out for a few minutes. I’ll be back in a second.”

“But…” Eddie blinks, mentally hating how this is not letting him enjoy his afterglow. “Hey. You can… You can do it in the kitchen. Like… Just open up the windows. I don’t mind,” he says in a crazy effort of keeping Richie home. He doesn’t realize how out of character he sounds until Richie looks at him like he’s seeing an alien.

“Are you sure?” He asks, frowning. “You hate smoking.”

“Yeah, but… you know,” Eddie tries to compose himself, shrugging but still clearly nervous. “You smoking a cigarette inside won’t kill me.” Or at least that’s what Eddie hopes. He’s sure Richie leaving right now would hurt him more than him smoking in the kitchen.

For a moment Richie hesitates, and Eddie prepares himself, but then Richie just shrugs and nods, leaving the t-shirt he had picked up from the floor and walking out the door barefoot, just wearing his unbuttoned jeans. Eddie waits until he can’t hear Richie’s steps anymore to take a deep breath and sigh.

Is Richie increasing his smoking habits? Until a few weeks ago Eddie hadn’t even seen him smoking at all, and now he doesn’t only take breaks to smoke while they’re together, he’s smoking in Eddie’s kitchen because he couldn’t even wait to do it when he leaves the morning after. Or… Is he even going to stay the night and leave next morning?

Eddie puts on an old t-shirt and his PJ bottoms, chewing on his bottom lip when he walks out the room too, going to the kitchen. Richie has taken a stool and he’s sitting near the window, leaning on it and smoking looking outside. He doesn’t hear Eddie coming in, or if he does, he doesn’t look back. He looks pensive and even beautiful with that white smoke coming out of his mouth and nose, but Eddie worries. Something happens.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks, sitting at the kitchen table. He does find Richie pretty even when he smokes, but he still hates the smell. “Something wrong at home?” He asks too, because he remembers what Richie told him about smoking and his family.

“Yeah. Home’s the same,” Richie answers, making a face and looking at Eddie with his characteristic smile, only now looks empty. “I’m thinking… Maybe I should leave too. Like, go somewhere else. Maybe Central Europe. Or Asia. A lot of Asian countries are cool.”

“Oh,” Eddie blinks. He wasn’t expecting that answer. Something weird turns around inside his stomach. It’s stupid, he shouldn’t feel sad or mad because of Richie leaving. What’s the difference anyway? Eddie will be home next month. It doesn’t matter if Richie is in Ireland or in Japan. They won’t be together. And still… “Why do you want to leave now?”

“I don’t know. It seems about time. I’m not getting famous with my band, that’s for sure. We’re getting older, the guys are thinking about other things, their future… My friends too. Ben and Bev are talking about getting a house together next year. I’m sure the moment Bill comes he and Stan will do the same. You will disappear next month and get you one of those big American houses,” he jokes, although it doesn’t make Eddie laugh. “And then there’s me. I think I should keep moving too.”

“I see…” Eddie bites his lips. ‘You could keep moving with me,’ Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t say it. It’s not true anyway, Eddie couldn’t get Richie home with his mom and everything there, and even if he got a new house just for him it’s crazy to ask a guy he met this year to leave everything behind and come live with him overseas. “Asia is pretty cool,” he says, just because he doesn’t know what else he could add.

“Yeah…” Richie sighs, putting out the cigarette and moving on the stool to face Eddie. “But then again, I cant’ live without my friends,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I couldn’t leave Bev or Ben, or even Stan and Mike now too. I’m a big softie… I need them. I need my friends around,” he makes a resigned face. Eddie wants to say he understands, he’s going to miss Stan and Mike like crazy, and Bev and Ben too. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll just travel somewhere for a few weeks and then come back.”

“Traveling is amazing. Sometimes you find the most wonderful people,” Eddie smiles, making Richie smile too. And suddenly it feels like the right time to talk about it. The right time to say goodbye. Eddie moves up from his seat and walks towards Richie, his fingers finding the fabric of Richie’s jeans. “You know… I’m gonna miss you a lot.”

“Yeah, for like a week,” Richie jokes and laugh, making Eddie give him a dirty look. “Come on, there are prettier and more talented guys there than me.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Rich,” Eddie says again, ignoring Richie’s words, hooking his fingers on the loops of Richie’s jeans and pulling, making him move closer. Richie sighs and closes his eyes.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” he says, and his voice sounds slightly broken, his words smelling like smoke when Eddie pulls him closer and leans their heads together. “I’m gonna miss you a lot, Eds,” Richie says again, and Eddie nods, their noses brushing. Eddie is the first to press their lips together, softly, breathing in when he opens his mouth for the kiss. He’s the one to pull away too, though, the taste too strong for him to handle. “Sorry. I just had a smoke,” Richie apologizes, moving away immediately. Eddie’s eyes are still closed when he shakes his head.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

When Eddie opens his eyes, the image he sees in front of him it’s not something he can recognize. Richie looks conflicted, nervous, but there’s also that kind of confidence only Richie has. The kind of confidence that makes you do what you need to do even when you don’t believe in yourself. Eddie wishes he had that kind of confidence. Eddie wishes…

“I should get going,” Richie says, standing up and moving away from Eddie. “See you around, okay?”

 

*

 

Richie never stays the night again.

They keep hanging out together, them and the others too. They talk and laugh and joke around. They touch and play and they fuck too. They fuck even if it’s quicker and faster and much more desperate than ever before, so satisfying and not satisfying at all at the same time.

They don’t kiss, though. Kisses are short and raw during sex, but when they’re not sharing skin Richie’s mouth taste so bitter Eddie just can’t handle it. Richie has replaced Eddie’s lips for the butt of a cigarette and now there’s constantly smoke around him. A white cloud that keeps Eddie from getting close.

Or not.

It’s his last day in Ireland and Eddie refuses to spend it away from Richie. It’s okay he has accepted to never see Richie again in his life, but he’s not going home with a bitter memory along with a bitter taste.

“Let’s go to the movies,” Eddie says, and Richie looks like he wasn’t expecting it but he says yes anyway. Eddie doesn’t even like the movies they’re playing but the excuse is good enough.

It’s the only time Richie stops smoking, while they’re at the cinema. Then they’re out and the cigarette is back between his fingers. The rest of the guys join them later to spend this last day together too, and they all go to the park and to the bar and then to Ben’s house to play board games and drink and tell Eddie how much they’re going to miss him.

Everyone except Stan and Eddie ends up smoking weed and Eddie mentally thanks Stan is the one who will drive him to the airport tomorrow. It’s fun anyway, laughing with his friends, having a good time, watching some of them pass out on the couch when it gets pretty late. Eddie snuggles in Richie’s arms when he gets the chance, putting a blanket over them because it’s too cold at this time of the night.

“You’re gonna reek tomorrow morning,” Richie says, lighting up what must be the last cigarette of his pack. Eddie just hugs closer, shaking his head.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he says, and he feels Richie sigh before he puts an arm around Eddie, getting him even closer now, pushing his fingers through Eddie’s hair. They just stay like that, Eddie balled up on the couch hugging Richie and using his chest as a pillow while Richie pets Eddie’s head and smokes away. Eddie is not sure how much time passes before he starts feeling sleepy, but he sighs and moves, ready to go to bed. “I wish I could kiss you goodbye,” he says, but Richie is already sleeping. Eddie moves him so he lies down on the couch, covering him with the blankets and going upstairs.

He’s ready to take that plane.

 

*

 

“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving,” Stan says, making a face. The road is still dark because the sun hasn’t risen yet. Eddie’s flight takes off pretty early in the morning, that’s why he hasn’t woken up anybody. The guys are still sleeping at Mike’s and Eddie thought it would be cruel to wake them up just to leave a minute after. Also, he didn’t want to give himself the chance to tear apart his plane ticket. “Promise you’ll visit sometime soon.”

“You could visit too, you know?” Eddie says, and Stan makes an agreeing noise, but they both know it’s not that easy. It’s not like they’re talking about living in different cities, or even in different countries. They live on different continents and Eddie knows it will take a while before he can even save enough money to travel abroad again.

They stay in silence for a few minutes, the radio playing softly in the background, some sunlight peeking out of the horizon. Eddie looks at his phone just to check nobody has tried to contact him since he left. There are no notifications. He just sighs and puts it away, knowing he will look it up again in a couple of minutes.

“You should have said goodbye to Richie…” Stan says when he speaks up again, making Eddie turn his head around to look at him. “What? It’s true. I just…” he presses his lips together and looks at the road. Eddie knows how hard this must be to Stan, he’s not someone who likes to get into other people’s business. “I don’t know, Eddie. It’s complicated, yeah, but he…” Stan sighs and shakes his head. “He’s gonna miss you.”

“I know. Me too,” Eddie says, closing his eyes and trying not to think too hard about it. “It will pass, though. He’ll forget about me. There are a lot of interesting people in the world. I was just like… a summer love. Only for almost a year.”

Almost a year. It’s the first time Eddie says it out loud and it’s the first time he realizes that’s true. Richie and he, they’ve been together for almost a year. For sure the longest relationship Eddie has ever had. Maybe they weren’t a couple, maybe they were just friends with benefits or some kind of shit like that, but that doesn’t take away the fact that Eddie had never been with someone for so long. Now it kind of makes sense, the ache in his chest as he gets closer to the airport. Now Eddie understands why it feels like he’s getting something torn apart from inside him. It’s Richie. Richie, who grew on him to the point of becoming part of his system.

Stan doesn’t say anything else, maybe because he’s aware of how Eddie clenches his jaw and blinks fast, trying to fight back tears. A year, holy fuck. A year to fall in love and to crash and burn. Nobody told him this could happen. He didn’t even remember how to make friends, for God’s sake, how could he imagine he would find _this?_

They walk in silence when they get out of the car, Stan refusing to let Eddie carry his own bags. The airport feels too big even if it’s smaller than the one home… Or not. Not the one home because that place doesn’t feel like home anymore. Eddie has stopped thinking home is a place.

“Call the moment you get there, okay? No matter the time, I’ll pick up,” Stan says, and Eddie crashes into his arms when they hug. “I’m gonna miss you, Eddie.”

“No more than me,” Eddie says, and that’s probably the biggest truth he has said in his life.

The rest of the walk he does it on automatic: going to the gates, putting his bags on the conveyor belt, showing his passport and ticket, getting on the plane. Sitting down. Closing eyes. Taking a deep breath.

Should he had said to Richie he loves him? That’s the thought Eddie can’t get out of his head, no matter how hard he tries. He’s sure he did the right thing not telling him but at the same time there’s something inside him screaming he’s wrong. But what if he had done it? Richie doesn’t love him back, so what difference would have made? He would have made Richie feel awkward or uncomfortable. 

But. But he loves Richie. Fuck, he loves Richie. And he was such a coward he couldn’t even say it. Not only he hid it from Richie, he also tried to hide it from himself, tried to lie to himself. And for what? What has he gained? Was it even worth it?

Eddie’s head is a mess and it hurts and people keep getting on the plane and the noise of them talking and laughing only makes his brain hurt. He takes out his phone and looks at it. Still no notifications. Is Richie still sleeping? Has he woken up already? Does he care Eddie is gone? Does he care at all…? Biting his lips he opens up the Twitter app, typing the same words he’s been typing for almost a year. Only this time is different. This time is the last.

_To the guy at the bus stop: I love you._

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. This is it. He’s going home and there’s nothing he can do about it, so it doesn’t matter if he’s found who he thinks it’s the love of his life. What does he know about love anyway? He’s just a kid. Who the fuck said 21 year-olds were adults? He’s a kid. He doesn’t know shit.

He shuts his eyes tighter, fighting back tears. Richie doesn’t feel the same. He did well not telling him. He repeats these words over and over again in his head, trying to exhaust himself into believing it. Richie doesn’t feel the same. He did well not telling him.

His phone vibrates in his hand, startling Eddie for a second. He didn’t even remember he still had his phone in his hand. There’s a twitter notification on the screen, and Eddie needs to rub the tears away from his eyes to read it.

_Pickle Tickle Da Band! replied:_

_I love you too_

Eddie frowns and slides to go to Twitter again, ready to virtually punch whoever thought it was funny to reply to his tweet like that. He goes to the profile and sees it follows him, the stupid Pickle Tickle Da Band! Like, who the fuck names their band like that? It’s probably one of those bands who followed him when he arrived in Ireland. Eddie honestly thought they all had unfollowed him when he hadn’t pay any attention to them. It seems like this @pickletickleman didn’t learn from his friends.

Eddie is already typing his reply when he looks at the header pic of the account. He frowns again. He recognizes that picture. He recognizes that place. That’s the Mad Sweeney. Those are the walls and the lamps and the bar and the stools and the fucking alcohol bottles he’s been seeing almost every weekend now. That’s the Mad Sweeney. And when he looks for more pictures he finds the Mad Sweeney again. And Beverly behind the bar with a huge grin. And Mike playing with his band on the stage. And Richie screaming at the microphone.

And Richie playing guitar.

And Richie smiling at the camera drinking shots with Bev.

And Richie. Richie. Richie.

_‘Richie?’_ Eddie texts, the blue checks appearing almost immediately. The response following it.

_‘Have a nice flight, baby’_

_‘Im gonna miss you to death’_

_‘Love you’_

_‘Bye’_

What?

What?!

Eddie touches the plastic window, he looks around the plane. He’s trapped. He’s trapped in this stupid metal bird and he can’t escape. He’s starting to hyperventilate. Richie loves him back? Does he…?

He needs his inhaler. He needs. He’s having a panic attack.

_…make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position and that your seat belt is correctly fastened. Also, your portable electronic devices must be set to ‘airplane’ mode until an announcement is made upon arrival. Thank you._

 

 

 


	8. Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this the real life?? Is this just fantasy?! What? You thought I would never update this, right?? Well, I thought that too, tbh. For a while life was so chaotic I really thought I would never have time to finish this story and it really bugged me because I really love this story but, above all, I love this fandom. You people are the nicest, loveliest human beings I've ever met and I felt so good writing for this fandom I hated leaving this story unfinished. So, here I am! And I really, really understand if some of you didn't wait for it (I probably wouldn't have waited this long to read a stupid fanfic lol), but to all of those who are still here, I want to say two things: First, THANK YOU, you really don't know how much it means to me that you're still interested in this story. And second, this is for you. It's totally for you, for those of you who have commented and leave kudos and have understood sometimes life doesn't get easy and we writers need time to get back on track. To all of those of you, I really hope this chapter makes worth the wait.

 

 

 

It’s getting dark already when Eddie gets home and puts the grocery bags on the kitchen table. He needs to manage time a lot better but he’s getting there. After all, he’s still getting used to all this ‘living alone’ thing. Or maybe alone is not the right word because he's not living all alone by himself, but he stopped living with his mom and that's probably the biggest step he's ever taken. Bigger than accepting the scholarship to Ireland, bigger than telling his mom he was in love with a boy back in Europe, bigger than deciding he would totally go back to Richie once he finishes college.

His mom, you see, wasn't happy at all when Eddie came back. She said he was a bad son, she said he didn't love her, and blamed him for everything bad that happened to her while he was away. It hurt him, every time she says she was sick and he wasn't there, or she needed help and couldn't reach out to him. It did hurt him, but not as much as it would before. So when he says he wants to keep living on his own, he wants to leave the family home already, it doesn't hurt that much to hear her say "if you leave again you're dead to me, you're not my son." It hurts, of course, it hurts a lot, but not as much to make him stay.

His biggest mistake was thinking living alone there in Maine would be the same as living alone back in Ireland. Maybe it really was the same but it didn't feel like that at all. He was also different when he left, he was used to not talking to people, he was used to kind of being a weirdo and, most of all, he was used to the silence.

Now he hates it.

Now the absence of sound means the absence of Richie and Eddie can't help feeling like his chest is shrinking every time there's silence around him and he can't breathe. He can't. He feels like he was back there on that plane, flying away from the only life he's ever loved, the only person he's ever loved. So the first month alone is truly awful. So awful he actually thinks about living on campus, but still, he doesn't want to go back to his mom's once the school year is over (not that he can anyway), so he needs a house on his own.

Another thing he didn't consider: house renting in Maine is crazy expensive compared to Ireland. And yes, he had some savings and thank God for scholarships but still, leaving home meant now he has to pay for everything and getting a stupid part-time job at a coffee shop helps but it doesn't make him rich. So getting roommates seemed like the perfect solution: he wouldn't have to pay for everything himself and he wouldn't have to deal with so much silence all the time.

That's how he met Eddie and Dorsey Corcoran. He kind of remembered them from Derry but the brothers seemed not to know who Eddie was, so he said nothing. Dorsey said they were looking for a new place in Maine because there were more job opportunities in the city, but Eddie knew there were problems at home, and the guys' dad (or stepdad, Eddie wasn't sure) was a huge jerk. However, Eddie said yes, he took the brothers in, and they've been living together since. There's still some silence at home because the Corcorans are pretty quiet, like him, but it feels cozier. Eddie likes it.

He's finishing putting away the grocery when his phone rings. He doesn't even need to look at the screen to know who's calling, but he does just to see his own stupid smile reflected on the phone.

"Good morning, sunshine," Eddie can hear Richie's sleepy voice at the other end of the line. Eddie laughs because it's 9 p.m but that means it's super early in Ireland and Richie just woke up to go to class.

"Good evening, Richie," he says back, walking to his room and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Did you wash your teeth yet?" He jokes, falling back and closing his eyes, enjoying Richie's voice.

"No, just woke up," Richie answers with a yawn. "Do you think they'd kick me out if I stopped brushing my teeth at all? Would you trust a dentist with rotten teeth?"

Eddie laughs and grimaces at the mental image. Richie is working at the university clinic as he studies for his Ph.D. He also has to give some classes, like today, and Eddie still can't imagine having Richie as a teacher. Sometimes Richie sends him pictures of what he's wearing to class because Eddie didn't believe he would wear the same kind of outfit he used to wear when he worked at the Mad Sweeney. He does. According to Richie, it doesn't really matter what you're wearing when you're good at what you do. Eddie doesn't know how much true is that.

Anyway, he's glad Richie is happy doing what he's doing now. He never thought Richie would pursue his studies forward, at least when they were together in Ireland it didn't seem like Richie had much interest in them. But then one day, talking on the phone, while Eddie was getting everything ready to go back to college, Richie said he was thinking about applying to get a Ph.D. in oral bioscience.

_"You're going to be a fucking awesome nurse and I kinda want to be up to it. Like, working at the Sweeney is cool but it's not the best to support a family of six."_

_"…Six what??"_

_"Dogs. Kids. I don't know, whatever we feel like. Parrots, maybe."_

_"So you… want to be a dentist now… to support our future family."_

_"A Doctor, actually. And then I'll start a YouTube channel."_

Conversations with Richie tend to get a little crazy sometimes. That's why Eddie didn't really think Richie would do it until he started sending pictures. Then Eddie asked Beverly because it still seemed pretty crazy even for Richie. She said it was true, and still, Eddie found it hard to believe until Richie started calling him when it was like 6 a.m. in Ireland, so that got him. There's no way Richie would wake up so early for no reason.

"… I mean, at least I'm not fucked up because my dad's a dentist. Like, you know, Johnny Depp's Willy Wonka fucked up. I just feel the need to brush my teeth every time I have a weird taste in my mouth. Thank God I stopped smoking, Adrian would have thought I'm nuts, brushing my teeth every other hour."

Adrian was the roommate assigned to Richie when he went live on campus. Yeah, that's another thing that changed. Richie left home too. He doesn't really talk with his parents very often now, but it's not like they're mad or anything. They just act like they always did, so the contact between them is very little, but not bad. It's cordial, like friendly strangers, or that's how Richie described it once (and then he said that'd make an awesome band name). A positive thing, though, Richie stopped smoking ever since, and Eddie can't wait to know how he really tastes without all that nicotine numbing his tongue.

"I think Adrian is well aware of your mental issues…" Eddie jokes, chuckling. "I don't think he will ever forget that month you took that wild squirrel as a pet. Poor thing should have run away sooner."

"Hey, she _liked_ me! She came to me. And, in my defense, I must say… I was looking for a deer but didn't find any."

"When a normal person wants a pet, they go to a pet shop!"

"But that's so wrong, Eds! You shouldn't buy animals!"

"It's so much better to just… kidnap them, right?" Eddie rolls his eyes, but he can't help laughing too. He's going to say something else but the sound of the key opening the front door and some mumbling makes him lose his train of thought. “I need to hang up, I can hear Eddie and Dorsey at the door and I promised them we’d go out for real this time. There’s this new place Eddie wants to go,” Eddie explains, looking at the clock, and Richie laughs at the other end of the line.

“I still find funny of all people in Maine you managed to room with another Eddie.”

“There are a lot of Edwards in the world, Richie,” Eddie mocks.

“And still there’s no one like you.”

Eddie closes his eyes and bites his lips, trying for the blush on his cheeks not to spread all over his face. He’s never going to get used to it, to Richie praising him out of the blue just because he’s Richie and that’s what Richie does. It’s in times like that when he hates the distance the most, because if Richie was there with him he wouldn’t have to say anything, his face would say it all, but since they’re on the phone and miles away from each other, Eddie needs to say something and he usually doesn’t know what.

“I… Um. I’ll text you later, okay?” He says awkwardly, making Richie laugh. At least Richie knows him well enough to understand how useless Eddie is at these things.

“Sure, babe. Have fun, ‘kay? _Miss ya, luv_ , ” Richie says in one of his accents. Eddie shakes his head and smiles.

"Miss you too. So much."

So, so fucking much.

Some would say things like that get easier after a while, missing your loved ones. That's what Eddie used to tell himself the first week, the first month. It took six months for him to give up and accept it wasn't going to happen, he would never stop missing Richie. He still missed everyone else too, sure, but not the same. Richie was different. He always was.

He cried like a motherfucker the first couple of days, even more after he called Richie and they talked about it, about what they felt for each other, about how much they meant to each other, about how they make each other happier, willing to move forward, willing to live. Sometimes Eddie feels stupid he was so afraid of having that conversation with Richie back in Ireland, of talking about feelings and love and all of those things Eddie thought were too heavy to handle.

Because, in the end, when they had _the_ conversation, when they talked about love and fate and all those deep things Eddie though could change the world, it didn't matter. That's the sad thing, it didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything, it didn’t dry the ocean, it didn’t short the distance, it didn’t get them a fucking private jet to use as they please. At the end of the day, after they had confessed their love, after they have discovered in awe both felt the same, after they wanted nothing more than to be together, they were still apart, living different lives, not even watching the same stars at the same time of the night. In the end, they were still apart, they would always have to end up apart, so Eddie can't forgive himself for not allowing him to, at least, have some of that time near to Richie.

"Talking to Mr. Pickles again?" Dorsey asks, and it's Eddie C. the one who shivers and makes a weird face.

"Really, D, when you call him that I can't help picturing Eddie dating that satanic dog," he says, making his brother laugh and Eddie make a disgusted face.

The guys tease him a lot about the amount of time he spends on the phone or using Skype because of Richie, and Eddie knows they're just joking but still, every time he feels the need to give them a speech about how much he needs to hear Richie's voice and how much Richie means to him. Eddie hates being so dependent on the phone too, but he can't help it.

"Well, don't worry Eddie. It's Christmas in a couple of weeks. You're visiting him, right?" Eddie C. asks. Eddie lowers his head and sighs.

"I hope I can…" He shrugs, although he already knows it's more than probable that he's staying. As much as he wants to go visit Richie and the guys, just the plane tickets are crazy expensive that time of the year. Dorsey already said to him he could lend him some money if he needs it, and Stan parents offered to buy the tickets for him, but Eddie can't accept any of that. Anyway, this is his last year and he's already looking for postgraduate courses in Ireland, making Stan ask around what an American student must do to get a study visa. And yes, he's going to ignore Richie's " _visa? What visa? Fuck that, you come here, we get married, you're Irish. It's easy_ " because Richie is fucking crazy and Eddie's legs didn't become jello right away after hearing him talk about marriage, fuck no.

Maybe he won't be able to see Richie this year, and that's okay (no, it's not, fucking hell), but as soon as Eddie's degree is over he's flying back to his paradise city, where the grass is green and the boys are pretty (and that GnR reference is totally Richie's fault).

 

*

 

On the other hand… he hasn't told Richie yet.

"You think he'll be okay with it?" Eddie asks to his computer screen, watching Stan's tired face at the corner, his half-written essay in the middle. Yes, Eddie is pretty dependent on the phone and Skype, but it's not just because of Richie. Stanley Uris has his fair amount of guilt, too.

"Eddie, I consider you a pretty smart guy," Stan says, twisting his mouth and speaking without stopping his typing on his computer. They still study together some days, when the time difference allows it, although maybe Stan would disagree on the use of the word 'study'. Anyhow, Stan has developed the ability to speak to Eddie while he still gets his work done. Eddie has so much to learn. "So, let me ask you a question. If the first thousands of times you asked me that the answer was a yes, what makes you think the answer would be different now?"

Well, to be correct, Stan has developed the ability of _being condescending_ to Eddie while he still gets his work done.

"I don't know! Maybe he said something yesterday. Maybe he said something two hours ago! I don't know, Stan. Not everyone is like you, not everyone can just be sure of everything, every time!"

"Not everyone is able to use language to communicate? Well, yes, that's true, but usually it gets better after the age of four," he says, and he doesn't even look at the screen, he just keeps typing while Eddie is trying to fulminate him with his look. "And I know the way you're looking at me, it doesn't work."

"Asshole."

"Pussy," Stan replies, but then he stops what he's doing and looks at Eddie through the screen. "Look, if you're so insecure about it just ask him."

"But then it won't be a surprise anymore…" Eddie lowers his head, sighing. His life is _hard._

"Does it have to be?" Stan asks, making one of those Stan faces he gets when he doesn't understand how human beings work. "Bill told me. We talked about it a lot, actually. And then, when everything was set, he came to live here and I liked it all the same. Not being a surprise didn't ruin my excitement of my boyfriend coming to live here."

"No, because you would have hated it if it had been a surprise. You wouldn't have had time to prepare things, and do all your OCD thingies before he arrived, so yeah. Being a surprise it's what would have ruined it. I know you better than you think, Uris," Eddie says with half a smile, and Stan smiles too, impressed.

"I knew I liked you for a reason," he says and they both laugh, Stan going back to writing whatever he's writing, and Eddie going back to look at his half-written essay, wondering if he's going to finish it today at all.

"So, about winter break…" Eddie starts, hesitant. Stan looks at him again, but just for a second before he keeps writing.

"You're coming for Christmas Holidays, right? Sad you can't be here for Hanukkah, but mum and dad said we can have a Christmas dinner if you want to, or go eat somewhere else…" Stan looks like he was going to keep on talking, but then he frowns and looks at Eddie. "You're not coming."

"I'm so sorry!" Eddie grimaces awkwardly. "I just… I really need to save some money, and I can't let your parents pay for it, Stan. I just can't. They would be throwing away their money, and I'm coming next summer anyway. To stay! You'll have time to get tired of me being there, and then you'll have to use that money to pay for a ticket to kick me back here."

"Remember what I said about me thinking you were smart? Forget about it. You're dumb as hell."

"Stan, please… I need you to understand…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Stan sighs, shaking his head and closing his eyes. He stays there for a second, thinking. Then he makes a face and shrugs. "Okay. I won't insist."

"Oh. Th-Thank you for understanding," Eddie answers. To be honest, he didn't expect Stan to agree so quickly. Usually is pretty hard to make Stan change his mind, so it feels a little bit weird. On the other hand, he just got what he wanted.

"No problem," Stan says, and he just keeps typing, his attention back to what's important.

 

*

 

Eddie is not worried. No, he's not worried because Stan just did what Eddie told him, he just agreed. So Stan not insisting doesn't mean he doesn't care if Eddie comes to visit or not, It doesn't mean he doesn't miss Eddie. And maybe he's thinking about it a little too much. Yeah, he's thinking about it a little too much, but it's just because a day later, when he texted Bev to tell her he wouldn't be able to come for Christmas she just… she said she understood, and nothing else. Well, she did say something else, they kept talking about work and college and Richie and Ben, they kept talking like the used to talk, the way friends talk… but something was off.

"Do you think they…?"

"Please, don't say 'hate me'. I can't live with that much drama," Eddie C. stops him before Eddie can finish the sentence.

"I wasn't going to say 'hate me'…" Eddie looks away. He was totally going to say it. "But it's like… like they're forgetting about me. Like they don't care."

"Oh, really? So your friends accepting you can't afford traveling across the ocean to see them just for a few days and telling you it's okay instead of making you feel guilty is not caring? Well, I want people to not care about me that way…"

"It's not like that, you're making it sound so wrong…" Eddie sighs. Eddie C. is right, it sounds so stupid when he says it out loud, but in his guts, he feels like it's more important than how it looks like or how it sounds like. Maybe these are the consequences of having such a toxic relationship with his mom all his life, maybe he can't tell apart understanding from neglect.

"What if I'm like her?" Eddie asks Dorsey that night, actually concerned. "What if… what if the moment I start spending time with Richie like a couple I start demanding weird things like he always telling me where he goes or what he does, and then I don't let him go anywhere without me and…"

"Eddie. Hey, listen," Dorsey grabs his hand and squeezes, and only then Eddie realizes he was shaking. "You're not your mom, okay? The simple fact that you're questioning yourself like this already shows you're not like her. Maybe there's a little part of her inside you because it's been so many years under her influence, but you're taking the right way. You're using logic and you're not letting those bad thoughts get you, right? Right, Eddie?"

"Right…" He nods, although he's not that sure.

He wants to believe his friends, though, because thinking they’re right means he doesn’t need to worry about the weird feelings he’s starting to get. He chooses to ignore them, he doesn’t mention them to his friends anymore, of course, he doesn’t bring it up talking to Bev or Stan, and especially he doesn’t say a word to Richie about it. After all, Richie didn’t even knew he was planning to visit during winter break, so it’s all good.

Or so Eddie thinks for a few days before it’s Richie who brings it up during one of their daily conversations.

“Who told you?!” It’s the first thing Eddie asks, and he’s glad they’re face timing because he can see Richie’s guilty face.

“Stan… But he didn’t do it on purpose. He thought I knew, so he asked me how I was after knowing you weren’t coming,” Richie explains.

“What else did he say? Did he tell you anything else?” Eddie asks urgently, and he can see some changes in Richie’s face. He shouldn’t have asked that, he’s giving himself away.

“Uh. Yes, …” Richie says, but it sounds more like a question. Eddie narrow his eyes. That doesn’t sound convincing.

“Yeah? What else did he say?”

“He… said you were… uhhhh… Okay, fine. He didn’t say anything else, I was just hoping you did,” Richie gives up and Eddie laughs in relief. “Stan was so mortified when he found out I didn’t know he almost passed out. Now he says he won’t ever talk to me about you again. The worse thing is I believe him.”

“Stan is a good friend,” Eddie says, biting his bottom lip. “I really wanted to go, I miss you a lot.”

“I miss you too, Eds. We all miss you,” Richie says, making Eddie smile wider and feeling his chest grow bigger. He didn’t know how much he needed to hear those words.

“You know Stan’s parents offered me to pay for my tickets? They’re always so nice to me, but I can’t take that offer… right?” Eddie asks, because the more he looks at Richie the more he feels like he needs to get to Ireland the sooner the better. “Unless… Well, I can always pay them back the moment I get a better job and save some money.”

And then, right there, Richie’s face changes again, but not the way Eddie would have expected.

“Well, I don’t know, Eds…” Richie says, fidgeting in his seat, looking away a few times. “Like, it’s a generous offer and, yeah, you could pay them back, but you’d be here such a short time, and the flights are expensive. Maybe you could save that money and, I don’t know, you could come here during the summer, so you can stay at least a month.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, that’s… that’s another option,” Eddie says, but there something in his guts, something that tells him something is off. “I miss you a lot, though. And I really, really want to see you…” He feels a lump in his throat when he asks: “Do you want to see me?”

“Of course I do, Eddie. I miss you so much, and that’s why I want you to come when you’re able to stay longer than just a week. I know if I see you again, and you leave a few days later, I’d go crazy,” he laughs, and Eddie laughs too, but he’s not buying it. This is not the Richie he knew back in Ireland, that Richie would have wanted anything he could get, that Richie didn’t care about the distant future, he cared about the right now.

However, he Richie doesn’t want him to go, no matter why the reason, he won’t go. If Richie wants him to stay, he’ll stay.

“So… it’s better to stay here and… wait for-“

“Why don’t you leave it on me?” Richie interrupts him, and he’s smiling but at the same time there’s something on his face Eddie doesn’t understand… or like. “You’re busy finishing your degree, Eds, you shouldn’t be worrying about these things. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Okay…” Eddie nods, but his face must show how much he’s hurting right now, because Richie softens his expression and sighs.

“Baby, trust me. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay, Richie,” he nods again, swallowing and taking a deep breath. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Eds. So, so much.”

 

*

 

“I think he’s cheating on me,” Eddie says, and just Eddie C. rolls his eyes. Dorsey twists his mouth but doesn’t say anything. After Eddie told them how the conversation with Richie had gone, they don’t think Eddie is making up things anymore.

“I’m not saying nothing’s happening, because obviously there’s something going on. But cheating? I don’t know. I just don’t see it,” says Eddie C.

“You don’t know the guy, Ed,” Dorsey says, talking to his brother. “I don’t want to fuel the fire, but if my girlfriend were so far away from me I know I’d want her to come visit as much as she could. I’d worry about her leaving again when she actually had to leave, not before she’s even here.”

“But there’s a lot of reasons he wouldn’t want Eddie to visit apart from _cheating_. Also the reasons he gave him aren’t so crazy, you know? The flight _is_ expensive, and it’s not even just Eddie expending so much money, it’s his friend’s parents. And it’s just for winter break. It’s a lot of trouble for just a week.”

“If you really love someone you don’t give a fuck about the trouble, you want them by your side no matter how,” Dorsey says, and he knows he’s fucked up the moment he sees Eddie’s face. “I mean… Shit, Eddie, I don’t mean he doesn’t love you…”

“It’s okay…” Eddie moves a hand and shakes his head. “I don’t… I don’t really want to talk about it anymore. I should go to the library. My midterms are coming and I… I should be studying.”

As Eddie goes to his room and start packing the things he need, he can hear the brothers still talking about the issue, but he choose to just ignore it and leave. He feels weird on the inside. He doesn’t even know what is it. It doesn’t feel like anything he’s ever felt before, but it’s dark and it’s twisting, and it makes him unable to eat or sleep or think or concentrate. He doesn’t even think about Richie or the guys, he just can’t think at all. It’s like he’s empty, like there’s no way to make him full again.

Richie calls again, like he uses to do. And Stan calls too. They keep calling for two days but Eddie doesn’t pick up the phone because he knows his apathy would show in his voice or his face. They text too, Richie and Stan, and also Beverly and even Ben. Mike text a little less but the motherfucker issuper busy now touring with his band. A record label signed them and now they’re playing all across Ireland. Eddie text them back and say he’s pretty busy studying, and he’s sorry, and he will call as soon as he can.

Richie doesn’t stop calling and he keeps texting him sad emojis. He tells Eddie he misses hearing his voice and, really, Eddie misses Richie’s too. So he calls. It’s the middle of the night, so it’s pretty early in Ireland, but Eddie knows Richie’s schedule, he knows he’s free today, so Eddie gets in bed and gets his phone and just, he just calls.

“Do you miss me?” Eddie asks, soft and low and needy, and he can tell it takes Richie by surprise but he answers anyway.

“Of course I miss you, Eds. I miss you so much,” he says, and the words fill Eddie with something that shouldn’t be bittersweet but it is.

“Are you home?” Eddie asks, and his voices cracks a little when he asks again: “Are you alone?”

“Adrian is here, but I just came to my room. So it’s okay. We can talk. We can talk about anything you want to.”

“That’s not what I need, though…” Eddie closes his eyes and moves, feeling the sheets touching his skin. And before Richie can asks, Eddie already answers. “I need you, Richie. I need you to touch me, and kiss me… and I really, really need you inside me.”

“ _Eddie_ ,” Richie’s voice is shaky, and it makes Eddie a little happy. “I wish, baby. I want it too, so much. I wish I could see you, touch you.”

“Do you mind that I’m touching myself?” Eddie asks, laughing when he hears Richie choke, moving his hand down to grab himself between his legs.

“N-No. Fuck, no. I just… I’m just jealous it’s not me,” Richie says, and Eddie closes his eyes with a smile, starting to stroke himself.

“You can always tell me what to do… So it feels like it’s you doing it,” Eddie suggests, but Richie chuckles.

“I don’t… I’m not good at this. I’m better at doing it, if I’m any good at all…” he says, and Eddie wants to roll his eyes. “There’s something I can tell you, though. And I want you to listen. Okay, Eddie?” Richie lowers his voice too, and a shiver runs down Eddie spine. “No matter how far away you are from me, no matter how long it takes for us to be together again, I promise I’m gonna make you forget everything the moments I get my hands on you. Gonna leave bruises like my fingerprints on your thighs, gonna eat you out until your legs are shaking. And I’m gonna fuck you so good… so good, Eds, I promise.”

“Richie,” Eddie groans, and this time it’s his turn to choke. He strokes himself faster, feeling so close to the edge. “Fuck, I need you here. I need you so much, Richie. I can’t…” And then he feels it, the tightness inside his chest, something bad, dark, twisting in the bottom of his stomach. “ _Richie…_ ”

Oh, shit. Shit. Is he really…?

“Eddie?” Richie sounds confused, which is totally normal, but he also sounds worried and that is not good, it’s so not good. “Eddie, is there something wrong?”

“I… I’m sorry.” Eddie drops the phone and brings his hand to his face. Fuck, is he really crying right now? Did he just ruin his own orgasm _crying??_ Somebody please just kill him already.

Richie keeps talking, his voice sounds urgent, but the phone is too far away from Eddie’s ear to hear anything, and that’s actually better. He just says sorry again, although he doesn’t know if Richie can hear him, and he hangs up.

Eddie. Wants. To. Scream.

Right there, in his room, on his bed, with his underwear pushed down and his long gone hard on laying there, waiting to be covered up again and getting back a little of his dignity, Eddie wants to scream so loud the neighbors call 911 and the Corcorans think he’s lost his mind for good. He wants to scream so loud his mom hears him back in Derry and smiles thinking his useless son finally proved himself, in fact, useless.

He doesn’t scream, though. He’s a coward, after all. So the only thing he does is push his face to the pillow so no one can hear when he cries louder, fisting the sheets and punching the mattress. And when Richie calls again, and then one more time, he just shuts the phone down and cries, not only louder, but harder. And just like that he falls asleep.

 

*

 

“He’s gonna hate me forever. I ruined everything. And now he probably thinks I’m fucking out of my mind or something and he told everyone and that’s why they keep calling, to tell me how crazy I am and how they never want to see me again or even hear about me again. And he’s going to leave somewhere else where he will find someone handsome and interesting and mentally stable, and he’s gonna be so glad he forgot about me…”

Eddie paces up and down, babbling every incoherent thought that comes to his mind while Dorsey and Eddie C. watch him fall into madness. They should be enjoying the show. There’s no way in hell they’re just staying because they’re such good friends. No one is such a good friend.

“You should stop freaking out…” Eddie C. suggests, and that makes Eddie turn his head at him like he’s possessed.

“Stop freaking out?? How?” He moves his hands, throwing them in the air. “Or, no, no, even better, why? Why I should stop freaking out. I’m pretty sure the best option here is to freak the fuck out!”

“You’re such a drama queen, Jesus Christ…”

“I started _crying!_ While _dirty talking!_ With my hand _on my cock!”_

Dorsey tries to suppress a laugh when Eddie shoots him a death glare.

“You miss him! And you’re fucking emotional for all these weird thoughts you’re having lately. And I bet he’d understand if you told him any of this, but you ’re not telling him, because you don’t even pick up his calls!”

“Fuck. See? There’s also that. I’m not picking up the phone. I’m declining every one of his calls. He hates me. He won’t stop hating me…”

“Then pick up the phone! Call him yourself!”

“ _How??”_

And that’s the real question here. How can Eddie pick up the phone or call Richie to explain everything that’s been going on in his head. Even if Richie understands, that doesn’t make Eddie any less crazy. Everything is too confusing, the guys not caring about him coming to visit, Richie telling him not to come, then he acting like an idiot, the weird calls, the ruined jerk off, the freakout. Eddie can’t handle it.

Maybe he’s too stressed out, dealing with a long-distance relationship, moving out and not having his mom, working a shitty job, paying bills, studying for the fucking mid-term exams. He doesn’t even know how he’s managed not to die yet.

“I think I need a little time out,” Eddie says, turning around and walking to his room.

“Shutting yourself in your room is not the kind of time out you need!” He can hear Dorsey say in the distance, but he doesn’t even want to respond.

So he does that. He shuts himself in his room and shuts down his phone because he can’t handle the way the screen lights up every now and then showing new texts and missed calls. He does this for a couple of days, only coming out to eat and go to class and take a shower because as much depressed as he is, he can’t push away the voice inside his brain telling him he should at least be clean.

On the third day, he texts Stan, who is really pissed at him, and also hurt. The last texts he sent just asked him to say if he was okay, if he was at least alive. Eddie answers and says he’s sorry and yes, he is okay, but he needs some time to himself. He’d love to talk to Stan, he just wants to hear his voice. But talking to Stan means talking about Richie, and thinking about Richie, and it hurts too much just thinking about what he’s doing to him, so Eddie prefers to just numb himself with coffee and work. Not like it always works.

“You can’t just lie down on your bed and mope forever while you listen to that awful music,” Eddie C. says once while they’re eating breakfast. Eddie feels insulted.

“Well, first of all, his music is awesome,” he says, and he can’t believe he has the stupid Tickle Pickle album on a loop all the time, he can’t believe can’t live without listening to Richie singing now. He guesses it’s part of him going nuts. “And about what I can or cannot do, what me.”

Eddie stays in bed all day. He stays in bed and mopes and pines, and listens to Richie cheerful voice sing about things like eating fingernails under bridges because his lyrics are fucking weird but Eddie has learned to love the meaning behind them. He does all of that until he gets fed up with his own bullshit and concedes. He takes the phone and calls.

Only this time it’s Richie the one who doesn’t pick up.

Eddie can’t help the emptiness filling his stomach, the realization of having fucked up for good. He tries to tell himself time zones suck and probably Richie is busy, or away from his phone, or even napping. He calls again, and then a third time, and then he sets an alarm first hour in the morning so he can call again. Also in the middle of the night.

Richie is not picking up the phone and Eddie doesn’t want to tell the guys, doesn’t want to tell anyone because then it’d be too real. He never thought about this. He never thought about the possibility of Richie not talking to him, and now he can’t face it. Not alone.

“Well look who’s decided to come back from the dead!” Stan is pissed off when he picks up the phone, but Eddie doesn’t mind. He understands. Also, he’s freaking out too much to worry about Stan’s mood.

“Stan. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I’m the shittiest friend and… I know I’m gonna sound even worse now, but I need to ask. Please, tell me where is Richie,” he asks, almost choking up. He’s fighting back tears not even because he’s upset, but because he hasn’t slept at all in two days and he’s still going to class and studying like a motherfucker because he can’t afford losing his scholarship. And he’s crumbling. Almost literally.

“No, Eddie. Don’t you dare. Whatever you want to know about Richie, you ask him yourself,” Stan says, and he uses that voice it reminds Eddie of a parent scolding their naughty son.

“But he won’t… he won’t pick up…” Eddie tries, be the moment the words come out he knows he’s taken the wrong way.

“Oh! It hurts, doesn’t it? Being worried about someone living across the fucking see and that person not even picking up the phone,” Stan replies, and Eddie knows he’s not only fucked up his relationship with Richie, he’s also hurt Stan, and that makes him even more miserable.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been such an asshole…”

“Really?? Have you? I don’t know what the hell was wrong with you! I understand you could have some problems with Richie, because it’s obvious this all happened because of Richie, but you didn’t had to make the rest of us pay for it! I thought I was your friend… And you just cut me up like I didn’t matter at all. I could have helped you,” Stan says, and his voice sounds heavier, making Eddie feel really guilty. He’s right, everything Stan is saying is right.

“I know. I know, I… I’ll try to make it up to you. I don’t know what got into my head, I started acting crazy and… I promise I’ll explain, and I’ll make it up, but please Stan, at least tell me Richie is okay. I’ve been calling for two days and he just…”

“He’s alive,” Stan deadpans. “I can tell you that. And he’s busy and well, that’s all I can say,” he explains, and Eddie knows that sounds awfully similar to what Eddie texted him back when Stan was worried about him. “Give him a few days, okay? Also, you know what? Give me a few days too.”

“Stan, please, don’t! I’m sorry-” Eddie rushes, feeling the urgency in his chest telling him he can’t lose Stan too. He never thought about the possibility and now he feels like shit.

“I’m not cutting you off, okay? I’m still your friend. Pissed off, but your friend. Just… trust me. Give it a few days. I can’t keep talking to you right now.”

“You promise?” Eddie asks before Stan can hang up. “Just tell me that, tell me you promise we’re still friends.”

“We’re still friends, idiot. We’ll talk later.”

It’s not much, but it’s enough. At least when it comes to Stan.

 

*

 

So Eddie waits.

It’s harder than he first thought, and he didn’t thought it’d be easy, but the minutes feel like days and he doesn’t know how to keep on doing normal things apart from waiting. At least he’s done with his exams and he’s passed with flying colors, because living the life of an hermit has its benefits. However, that’s all he accomplishes.

“Eddie, let’s go grab some food!”

“I’m not really hungry.”

The door closes and Eddie is back alone with his thoughts. He’s planned every possible outcome. He’s thought about Richie hating him, about Richie just being mad but willing to fix it, about Richie wanting him to complete 12 tasks like Hercules, about Richie wanting him to actually complete Hercules’ Labors (he’d probably get eaten by the Nemean Lion at first try).

“Eddie, there’s this cool winter party we’re going…”

“Not really in the mood.”

He’s fighting not to pick up the phone and call Richie once again. Stan told him to wait a couple of days and he will wait. At least two days. He needs to be strong enough to do that if he wants to convince Richie he will be strong enough not to do things like this again. Also he bets it’s going to be Richie the one calling once the days pass. In fact, Richie could be calling anytime soon.

Eddie looks at the phone and then looks at the hour. It’s too early in Ireland, but it doesn’t matter. Whenever Richie calls, Eddie will pick up.

“Eddie, please, just come outside for a little time. Let’s go watch a stupid movie. Anything!” Dorsey and Eddie C. are worried. Eddie understands. He wants to tell them he’ll be fine as soon as Richie calls, but it’s the third day already and now Eddie doesn’t even know if he should call at all or keep waiting.

“I just… don’t want to,” he says, and it’s the truth. He doesn’t want to move, he doesn’t want to get out, he just wants Richie to call and tell him everything is okay.

Or even if it’s not okay. Even if Richie doesn’t want to see him again. Even if he… Even if he just wants to stay friends. Eddie can handle that. Eddie can be friends with Richie. He thinks he can.

And then Christmas is there. Christmas is everywhere, but not inside Eddie’s room.

He realizes he has his phone in his hand when he finishes talking to his mom. As much as their relationship has changed, she’s still his mom, and Eddie wouldn’t forgive himself if he at least didn’t wish her a merry Christmas. She asks him to come dine with her, but he’s not really in the mood either. Also he already spend Thanksgiving with the Corcorans and they have no place to come back for Christmas, so staying there with them seems right.

Eddie looks at the phone and sighs. He closes his eyes and dials Richie’s number. He doesn’t hope for anything because the truth is he’s already hopeless. But being hopeless means you have nothing to lose, so calling it’s just a way to roll his last dice.

One tone. Two tones. Three.

Busy tone.

Did he just… Did Richie hang up on him?

Eddie lets his phone fall on the bed as he falls back too. He closes his eyes, and just because he’s spend the last four, almost five days without barely any sleep, he dozes off immediately. Thinking about it, it’s the best thing that could have happened.

It’s Dorsey’s voice what wakes him up, and at first Eddie doesn’t even know what time or day is it.

“Eddie. Eddie come on. You need to come out,” Dorsey says, insistently, like he’s been saying for the past few days.

“Fuck it, I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie answers into the pillow, not even trying to move so Dorsey can hear him better.

“No, fuck you. You’re coming out. You need to. There’s someone at the door asking for you,” Dorsey says, but Eddie just groans and puts his pillow over his head.

“If they’re from the university tell them I’ll fix whatever they need me to once we’re back from winter break. If they’re selling something tell them to fuck off. If they’re family tell them I’m dead.”

“You’re just…” Dorsey grunts and turns around, closing Eddies door a little bit harder than he needed to. Eddie rolls his eyes and closes them again. He just wants to go back to sleep.

Only he can’t because Dorsey opens the door again.

“Dude, I told you—“

"Sup, bro! Gunna have sum mac'n'cheese then I'll fuck an eagle because _freedom!_ "

Eddie pales and feels dizzy and sick and just like he got off a roller coaster, all without moving from his bed. It wasn’t Dorsey who opened the door, and now a very smiley, disheveled, and tall (jeez, was he always this tall?) Richie is looking at him. In his room. In Maine. In _America_.

“What the—“

Eddie doesn’t even try to complete the sentence before he jumps out of bed and into Richie’s arms. Questions later. Questions can wait. Now he needs skin and smell and warmth, he needs Richie’s arms around him like he needs air to live. He tries to say something, doesn’t even know what, but words choke in his throat before they can come out and Eddie cries. He cries like he hasn’t been crying these days, like he didn’t know he needed.

“Now, now, cutie pie, you gonna git all ugly cryin’ like that,” Richie says, holding Eddie’s face to make him look up at him. Eddie blinks. He can’t believe Richie’s keeping up with the accent. “Nah, y’all still prettier than ma daddy’s .45.”

"Oh my God, is that your American accent??" It’s the first thing that comes out of Eddie’s mouth, and he never thought it would be that, but it seems like it’s good enough to make Richie smile at him and nod.

"Yeah, you like it?" He asks, his voice a little bit sweeter.

"It's awful, I love it," Eddie laughs and sniffs, throwing himself in Richie's arms again, hugging him as close as he can. "I love you." It hits him right there, everything that has been going on inside him, in his head, all his doubts and fears, all those stupid questions he’s been asking himself. They don’t matter. There’s only one thing he’s still sure of. “I love you, Richie.”

“Yeah, me too,” Richie presses his face to Eddie’s head and smiles, hugging him even closer.

It’s the weirdest feeling ever because it’s like it’s been forever since they hugged like this and also it’s like this is something they do everyday. It’s the welcome feeling of home and the homesick feeling, all at once, wrapped inside Richie’s arms. Eddie wipe down his tears and looks up at Richie, his face all red and snotty for sure, although Richie doesn’t seem to mind. He is smiling. That smile Eddie can’t live without.

“Your American accent is awful, for real. That’s why I’m crying. I’m still shocked,” Eddie says, sniffing, and Richie burst out laughing like he can’t believe his eyes. “Though, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you already sound pretty American when you speak normally.”

“I don’ know what yer talking about,” Richie looks away, faking his worst Irish accent. Eddie just laughs too and shakes his head, hugging Richie again.

There’s a lot of questions to be asked, first and foremost, why the hell is Richie here and not at the other side of the ocean, but Eddie can’t bring himself to ask, to break this perfect moment. So he stays like that a little more, just hugging Richie and feeling his warmth and his heartbeat, his chest at the perfect height for Eddie to lie his head on it.

“So, would you like to, maybe… sit down? Or lie down?” Richie asks after a while. “I mean, I’m really enjoying this but I’ve been stuck on a plane for a fuckton hours and I’ve walked all the way here from a weird bus stop… Why is your public transportation so sketchy? And why is everywhere so far apart from everywhere else? I probably shouldn’t have stopped coming here with my parents…”

“We can lie on my bed,” Eddie interrupts him, and Richie just stop talking, nodding frantically and moving them together to the bed.

If Eddie thought hugging Richie standing up was perfect, he had no idea how it was to hug in bed. The moment he closes his eyes and hides his face on Richie’s chest it’s like the time hasn’t passed at all. It’s like they’re back in Ireland and Eddie never fucked up and Richie never starting smoking back, and they were just happy and dumb and unaware of how cruel life can be.

And speaking of…

“You don’t smell like smoke,” Eddie says when it hits him. Richie’s smell has changed. And Eddie thought he liked it before, he had grown accustomed to it, even to the toxic remains of that awful habit, but oh boy, now it’s just amazing. Now it’s just Richie.

“Yeah, that happens when you quit,” Richie smiles, looking down at Eddie. “You like it?”

“So much,” Eddie nods, climbing him to kiss him again, now really appreciating how different Richie tastes.

And maybe that’s the reason it feels so perfect, because now it’s just Richie and him, and their bodies together, and their hands grabbing clothes, and their mouths tasting and kissing and biting. This is love, Eddie thinks. This is what stays when everything else stops being important, when you stop worrying about things that don’t really matter.

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole,” Eddie apologizes, not even thinking about it when the words come out of his mouth. “I mean… I freaked out and became paranoid and… now you’re here and I feel so stupid.”

“I didn’t came so you would feel stupid,” Richie laughs, shaking his head and moving back down to keep kissing Eddie’s neck. “You were super weird, that’s true. And you were kind of an asshole with the rest of the guys,” he says, although Eddie is starting to have a hard time listening, due to Richie’s mouth traveling his skin and sending shivers down his spine and across his body.

“I know. I know, it’s just… When I… When I told you guys I wasn’t coming to visit and…” Eddie bites his own lips, closing his eyes and trying to remain calm when Richie starts kissing down. “The way you all reacted it was like… I thought you didn’t want me to go…”

“Oh, that’s because I didn’t want you to,” Richie says, not even looking at Eddie, but that makes Eddie open up his eyes and look down, shocked.

“What? Why?”

“Well, because it would have ruined my plan! Just imagine, you buy your plane tickets and you go to Ireland, just to find out I’m here in Maine. No way, we’ll fly back to Ireland together next summer, when school is over.”

“Wait, together? What… what you mean next summer, _Richie_ …” Eddie’s eyelids flutter back and he rolls his eyes when Richie bites right below his belly button. This is not the best place to have this kind of conversation. And he really wants to talk about it because, actually, he still doesn’t know why Richie is here or how long he will stay, but he’s missed this so much he doesn’t know if he will have the willpower to keep asking.

“I’m staying the semester. I’m getting my PhD, remember? They allowed me to come here for a few months to work on my thesis doing some research,”Richie says, pushing down Eddie’s pants, mouthing over the fabric of Eddie’s boxers. “You’re gonna let me stay, right? I’ll pay rent. You know I can cook a killer breakfast. And, you know, do some other things for you…”

“Richie… fuck.”

Eddie is starting to lose his breath. He’s played this scene in his head so many times, trying to remember how it felt, but it’s nothing compared to real Richie. He doesn’t even know how he’s managed to survive without this, with the way Richie makes him twist and shiver and even beg. God help him, he’s totally letting Richie stay. In fact, he’ll do everything in his power to prevent Richie from being apart from him ever again.

“Against the wall…” Eddie murmurs, lost in the ecstasy Richie’s mouth is putting him into. It makes Richie look up and smile, a questioning gesture on his face. He doesn’t need to ask, Eddie explains. “You can stay all you want, but you need to promise. You need to fuck me against the wall.”

“Against the wall?” Richie laughs, but Eddie can see his eyes getting darker, his smile getting sharper.

“That’s the first thing I thought when I saw you. I thought… _fuck_ , I thought you were so tall you… you could pin me up and fuck me against the wall,” he says, and he’s very proud he has been able to get not just one but two coherent sentences out of his mouth in his current state.

Richie laughs. He genuinely laughs, like he does when he’s euphoric and happy and just that way Eddie loves because it’s pure Richie. And then he moves back up and Eddie doesn’t love that as much, because he really liked what Richie’s mouth was doing, but he loves it even more when it kisses him, biting his lips and licking his tongue and pushing his body against Eddie’s so he can feel how hard Richie is.

“I will fuck you on every surface I can,” Richie says, pushing down against Eddie, making him moan in anticipation, eager for it. It’s been too long, damn it. “And just so you know, I saw a really cool apartment back home I could rent… and I was hoping I could fuck you on every surface there too when we go back.”

“Jesus, Richie,” Eddie laughs, bringing a hand to his face, feeling the blush creeping up. “Is that your way of asking me to move in with you?”

“Well, yes. I already told you we should marry, so… It makes sense to live together,” he says, and Eddie knows he’s joking but that doesn’t makes him get less nervous or excited, and it’s a pretty weird feeling to have when your cock is hard and you’re about to get fucked. “Think about it baby, the moment you finish school we’re gonna be such a power couple. Like Beyonce and Jay Z,” Richie says, making a voice and making Eddie laugh even harder.

“Shut up! Jeez, …” He shakes his head, looking at Richie. “Me marrying a Doctor. My mom would be proud,” he jokes, but Richie smiles so wide and bright it almost blinds him. It makes Eddie’s hear flutter and his stomach twist. He moves his hands on Richie’s back and realizes he’s shaking. Fuck, he’s so lost, he’s fallen so hard there’s no way he can get out of this alive. “So… you’re gonna fuck me now or what?”

“Yes, sir!” Richie says with a serious face, rolling out of bed and taking Eddie with him, making him laugh when he pushes him to the wall. He stops laughing when his back hits it, though, and his legs shake a little when Richie gets so close his body covers Eddie’s completely and all he can see is Richie, all he can feel is Richie.

This is happiness. Eddie doesn’t think it because it’s pretty difficult to think when you’re being held up against a wall, ravished in every delicious way you have ever imagined. However, he knows it. In the back of his head, he knows it, and when he looks back and remembers it he will know that, right there, was pure happiness. Probably poor Eddie C. and Dorsey didn’t think the same, needing to go out for a walk because the noises were just too much, but they sure as hell were happy too seeing (or hearing) Eddie feeling better. Maybe the will even get too attached to Richie those next six months, so much they will end up traveling to Dublin a couple of times themselves.

Who knows. Sometimes you find friendship in the weirdest places, in the weirdest ways. That’s probably what Eddie will think when he finally goes back to Ireland, back home, and hugs Stan closer than he ever thought he needed, Stan hugging him back the same way. The same with Beverly, Mike, or Ben. People across the world he could have never met and now he can’t lose, he needs them in his life.

And then there’s love. Love, like the law of gravity, doesn’t matter if you don’t believe in it, it still pulls you down, it still can make you fall. Eddie still doesn’t know how he managed to find love at a bus stop. He doesn’t know how people manage to find love at the movies, at some random café, walking down the street. Maybe, though, it’s because they don’t find love, he didn’t find love. Love found him. And, what the hell, what can you do when love finds you? Who are you to fight it? No, when love finds you, you suck it up and take it like a man, and, with a bit of luck, you end up being pined up against a wall and fucked so good you forget even your name.

“What are you doing?” Richie asks when Eddie picks up the phone, both of them exhausted and sweaty, lying on the bed.

“Well, I feel like I need to. Like, to get closure or something like that…”

“What do you…? Oh. I see. You should add a picture of us.”

“Oh, yeah! Good idea,” Eddie laughs, typing.

“Let’s take a selfie now.”

“Are you crazy? I want them to know we’re together, not to know we fuck.”

“I bet they can imagine that too… I bet they could hear your moans in Ireland before.”

“Whatever, shut up,” Eddie laughs and blushes too, choosing the best picture of them and hitting send.

“We’re gonna go viral. I should use it to promote my band…”

“Richie. Shut up.”

 

 

_“To everyone who’s been reading. I will no longer tweet to the guy at the bus stop. I don’t need to anymore. Now we can just talk. This is him. This is us.”_

 

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [О планах и морских котиках](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15973004) by [everytuesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/everytuesday/pseuds/everytuesday)




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